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I 




“The Problem” 


A MILITARY NOVEL 


BY 

F. GRANT GILMORE 

AUTHOR OP 

“MASONIC” AND OTHER POEMS 


Price 


75 cents prepaid 



COPYRIGHT BY 

F. GRANT GILMORE 
1915 


SEP 1 1 1915 

©CI.A411448 



F. GRANT GILMORE 


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PREFACE 


Dear Reader: It is of no purpose of mine to 
make an appeal to your sentimental nature in 
lauding the exploits of the principal characters, 
or to exaggerate the facts associated with their 
life. You will note, in depicting the scenes, that 
the actual time and date are given to guide you 
through the eventful career of the principals. 
The scenes are natural, and are brought to your 
notice daily. What we do claim is, that the dictates 
of conscience prevail throughout. The sacrifice 
exhibited is natural and the description of the 
action of the soldiers and the noble display of 
bravery are all too true. In all, as you follow 
through the many perilous scenes and incidents 
of this romantic novel, may the lesson taught 
bring us closer to mankind and that we may be 
charitable in thought and deed. As time passes, 
we are slowly drawing to the place where there is 
no race, no creed, no color. 


The Author. 


PRESS OF 

HENRY CONOLLY CO. 
ROCHESTER, N. Y. 


“The Problem” 


CHAPTER I 

Upon the wings of fleeting time, 

Ride happiness and despair; 

Unknowing of their lives entwined, 

Not dreaming of the care. 

— Gilmore. 

Hezekiah Williams was born of free parents in 
the little village of Seln^ Ala. His father, Austin 
Williams, was one oTthe few colored men of Selma 
who had never been slaves. His first bom was a 
boy whom he named Hezekiah, who, from his 
youth, was thrifty and industrious. The exact 
date of his birth was not known, but he was a man 
some years prior to the beginning of the Civil War. 
In 1858, Hezekiah married Susan Mabry, the maid 
of Colonel Mabry’s eldest daughter, purchasing 
her freedom by paying the s\im of $2,000.00. In 
July, 1860, the fost bom of Hezekiah and Susan 
Williams was a beautiful girl, whom they named 
Amanda. 

While on a visit to Selma, Ala., Colonel Fairfax, 
of Richmond, Va., met Hezekiah Williams, whom 
he induced to come to Richmond, Va., and take 
charge of his farm. Williams made the long journey 
from Selma, Ala., to Richmond, Va., by stage 
coach, and after three weeks’ joume}dng arrived 
at the farm of Colonel Fairfax to become its manager. 
Having mn the farm so successfully for three years. 
Colonel Fairfax decided that he would retire and 
make his future home near Washington, D. C., 
offering Hezekiah the option of purchasing the farm 

5 


or renting it. Hezekiah decided to purchase, 
paying $10,000.00 in gold, and giving a mortgage 
for the remainder, which was to be reduced annually. 

The payment of such a large sum of money in 
cash by a colored man called forth much surprise 
and speculation in Richmond. Williams, by this 
purchase, became the owner of one hundred acres 
of the richest land in Virginia. -^The friendship 
between Colonel Fairfax and Williams grew very 
strong, and every year Colonel Fairfax returned 
to the farm to pay Williams a visit. In all the 
undertakings of Williams his wife, Susan, was his 
strongest supporter. Her very fair complexion 
made it difficult to fix her racial status. In 1870, 
Hezekiah was seized with a lingering malady, which 
resulted in his death August 5, 1872. At his death 
Susan and her daughter Amanda found themselves 
confronted with the responsibilities of entirely 
Hquidating the mortgage on the farm, as well as 
maintaining the same. 

Amanda, at the age of twenty years, was a beau- 
tiful young woman, inheriting the fine qualities 
of her mother, even the luxurious growth of brown 
hair which covered her shapely head. She was 
called “de queen of de village,” having many 
admirers. After the death of Williams, Colonel 
Fairfax took a deeper interest and often visited 
the Williams homestead. 

In a beautiful mansion, surrounded by an exten- 
sive estate, situated about two miles from the 
Capitol grounds, lived the Fairfax family. Mrs. 
Amelia Fairfax, wife of the Colonel, a product of 
an aristocratic Southern family, endowed with 
high ideals, was the happy mother of a bouncing 
boy. Henry Fairfax, the heir to the Fairfax fortunes, 
was two years old at this time. His black, piercing 
eyes portrayed the hot Southern character inherited 
from his parents. It was even said that he was 
incorrigible. He was the idol of his mother and 

6 


the pride of his father, and was closely watched 
that no accident would befall him; thus he grew 
to be a promising young man. At the age of seven 
years, having no companions save his valet, he 
was surprised one day by the arrival of a very 
^pretty girl, five years old, named Freda, brought 
by his father as a playmate for him. 

Mrs. Fairfax received the little girl with non- 
chalant reserve, having agreed with the Colonel 
for her adoption, not knowing anything of the 
parentage, and accepting the explanation of the 
Colonel that the little girl was a waif with no known 
parents, and, being endowed with marvelous beauty, 
would be a fit companion for her lonesome boy. 

Tho' the intent he good 

Evil brings its own reward. 

Tender affections grew up between the boy and 
girl. Over the vast estate they romped with Bruno, 
their mastiff guard, often hiding in the shrubbery 
for hours until found by the valet or housemaid. 
The lives of these two became inseparable and the 
tenderlike affection existing between the two brought 
tmbounded pleasure to Colonel and Mrs. Fairfax. 
But alas! fate had decreed this romantic change 
embodying four lives to be severed, for at this time 
the Colonel contracted a serious illness and all the 
aid of medical science was brought to bear to com- 
bat the ravages of this disease. After suffering 
three weeks the head of the Fairfax family, a man 
of wealth and renown, died. The Colonel, knowing 
of the approaching end, called in his solicitor, and 
a codicil was added to his will, reading: “That the 
girl, Freda Waters, brought to my home by me 
shall be reared, cared for, and given a thorough 
education, and at the age of twenty-one she shall 
receive the sum of ten thousand dollars and the 
interest thereon.” 


7 


Grief stricken, Rosewood, the Colonel’s vast 
estate, was closed by the widow, having decided to 
go abroad. The party, consisting of Mrs. Fairfax, 
a sister, Mrs. Lee, the maid and two children, 
visited London, Paris, Berlin, and many cities of 
note. They remained abroad about one year. In 
the spring of 1886, they returned to America. 
Rosewood was again opened and the family settled 
down to a new life. The education of the children 
was the one thought and desire of Mrs. Fairfax. 
Henry expressing a desire to be a soldier, it was 
decided to give him a military training. Later 
he was sent to a military school. Freda, being 
younger, remained at home under tuition of a 
competent instructor. Mrs. Fairfax, being promi- 
nently associated with many societies for the relief 
of hiunanity, found much pleasure in her philan- 
thropic work. The, daily association of Freda with 
her foster mother brought about a very tender 
regard, which afterward ripened into deep affection, 
and they often sat and talked of the time when 
Henry would return home on his vacation, and the 
happy reunion was celebrated by many unique 
and novel entertainments. Thus the lives went 
on and on, imtil at the age of fifteen, Freda was 
sent abroad. She exhibited a rare taste for art 
and music, being blessed with a marvelous voice. 

“You’ll be a reigning belle,’’ her mother said, 
“when you return, and although I am loth to part 
with you, it is for your future welfare.’’ 

Freda embarked for Paris in charge of a governess, 
to begin a new life mid foreign surroimdings. After 
four years of study she returned to her home. The 
happy party that journeyed from Washington to 
New York to welcome the homecoming of Freda, 
consisting of Mrs. Fairfax and her son Henry, who 
had received the highest honors for his efficiency at 
West Point, was rapturously overwhelmed with the 
marvelous beauty of the girl who only a short time 

8 


left the shores, said, “There she is, mother! There 
she is!” Freda, attired in a natty traveling gown, 
came down the companionway of the steamer. 
“Oh, I’m so glad to be home again; Paris is fine, 
but America for me.’’ 

Freda’s Choice 

Mid the sweet strains of music from the Hungarian 
orchestra, the perfume of flowers, and the thousands 
of electric bulbs entwined in the shrubbery, made 
Rosewood into a garden of Eden the night when 
Freda was presented to Washington society. Foreign 
noblemen, men of wealth, men of letters, and men 
high in government and military circles were the 
guests of Mrs. Fairfax and her son Henry, who 
had received the honorable appointment as surgeon 
in the United States Army. Everywhere through- 
out the vast assemblage Freda’s beauty was openly 
commended, and after the earnest solicitation of 
her mother she consented to sing. The “Airia 
from Aida’’ was rendered with rare grace and 
simplicity which electrified her hearers. “Who is 
this girl of the Fairfax’s?’’ “Where did she come 
from?’’ These and other inquiring remarks were 
caught by the sensitive ear of Freda, which caused 
her to think and wonder and to ask herself the same 
distressing question, “Who am I?’’ 

Accepted as the new belle and the acknowledged 
queen were the social honors conferred upon this 
debutant, e. After the guests had departed and the 
family assembled in the tea room, reaction took 
possession of her, and, though the Fairfax family 
had achieved new social honors, that “Who am I?’’ 
was a speptre of the past which came to blight the 
future happiness of this innocent girl. 

“Freda, my child, I was so proud of you to-night; 
you looked so beautiful.’’ 

“Yes, mother, and I was jealous of the attention 
she received from all of those great men, but they 
can’t have you. Can they, Freda?’’ 

9 


“Surgeon, you and your mother are so good to 
me, and the reception you planned for me to-night 
is only one of the many exhibitions of your kindly 
traits of character; but I fear I must do something 
practical. How could I be happy doing nothing 
when there is so much suffering in this world? 
Mother, you will forgive me if I beg of you and the 
Surgeon to excuse me, so Til kiss you both good 
night.” 

Everywhere in Washington society the marvelous 
beauty and exquisite grace of Freda, known as the 
adopted daughter of Colonel and Mrs. Fairfax, 
was openly discussed, and the dethroned belles 
would ask, “Who is this budding beauty?” “Why 
did the Colonel adopt her?” When these annoying 
questions were brought to the attention of Freda 
she, one day, ran to her mother, and throwing her 
arms around her neck, bursting into a flood of tears, 
she cried, “Mother, tell me who I am.” Mrs. 
Fairfax, distressed at the girl’s sensitiveness, tried 
to console her with these words: “You are my 
own dear, sweet child, and what I have is yours; 
so there, don’t cry.” 

* ♦ * * 

“Yes, my dear Miss Waters, the board of exam- 
iners have accepted your petition, and you may 
report daily to the District Superintendent of the 
Red Cross Society. You will find the work arduous, 
but as you are blessed with a strong physique I have 
no fear but that you will make a successful nurse. ’ ’ 

This was the life Freda chose after consulting 
her heart as to how to find happiness in this world. 
Surgeon Fairfax and his mother were much distressed 
at the course taken by Freda, and society seemed 
shocked by the action of the crowning belle of 
Washington. 

When remonstrated by Mrs. Fairfax as to why 
her dear child chose that profession, Freda gently 
replied, “Are you not associated with organiza- 

10 


tions that care for the afflicted and the unfortunate? 
Have you not given up your time and money for 
the poor and the distressed? Did you not take me 
when I was but a child; cared for me; educated 
me, and made me what I am to-day? Did you not 
tell me that our lives should be useful? Am I not 
following your precepts?” 

“Yes, my child, but you are so young, so inex- 
perienced. You are not sure that you will like the 
life. Listen! You will be sent afar off to other 
countries where fever and pestilence prevail. You 
will have to care for the wounded, live in tents, 
and suffer imtold hardships. Could you be happy 
in that field? Freda, I love you. The Colonel left 
me with a vast fortune, more money than I can 
ever spend. Henry, my son, loves you, and it is 
my wish that some day you will be his wife.” 

“Mother, there are voices crying out, as my 
heart cries out, for mercy, and I must respond to 
their call. God has ordained it and I bow to His 
will. You will love me better when you know that 
I gave my fife for those less fortunate. Forgive me ! ’ ’ 

“Well, my dear, if this is your choice, I must 
submit to your desires, and may the yearning of 
your heart, which leads you to this great sacrifice, 
not result in disaster and failure. I leave you with 
this promise : No matter where you are, no matter 
what befalls you, you are still my own dear child, 
and you will always find me ever ready to serve you, 
but I have grave fears for the step you are about 
to take.” With these words, Mrs. Fairfax, a woman 
of strong temperament, gave way to her tender 
impulses and cried as though her heart would 
break. Freda, not having seen her mother cry 
since the death of the Colonel, was visibly affected, 
and threw her arms around the neck of her bene- 
factress and wept with her. Surgeon Fairfax entered 
the room about this time and found the women 
clasped in each other’s arms. The scene was one 

11 


that deeply impressed him and he vowed that 
Freda should be his wife, no matter what she did 
or where she went. He thought that he never saw 
a picture so lovely. 

“Freda, can anything change you in this mad 
act? Can you not see that you have drawn a dark 
cloud over our bright sky of happiness? What can 
we do to change your mad intent ? Tell me ! What 
can we do?” 

“Surgeon, you can do something; you and your 
dear mother. You can give me your blessings in 
my new field of happiness. Would you see me un- 
happy, or will you join with me in serving humanity, 
like Christ, who gave Eds life for the world that all 
might be saved? No, Surgeon, I must go to those 
who need me, and God will bless you and your dear 
mother for encouraging a heart whose future deeds 
will add glory to us all.” Thus, she won her wish, 
and the following day reported to the headquarters 
of the society and was assigned to one of the barrack 
hospitals, where she received practical instructions 
as to the care of the wounded. 

After the destruction of the battleship Maine, 
in the early spring, the United States was like a 
hound held in leash, ready to spring at the throat 
of the enemy, and only wise counsel prevailed, 
owing to the imreadiness of the country for war. 
Then came the declaration of war with Spain and 
the mobilization of the regular army was promptly 
begun, and troops began to leave their home stations 
for the scene of action. It was at this period that 
the famous Ninth and Tenth Cavalries were ordered 
to proceed to Cuba, whereby their deeds of valor 
made history. 

Freda, with a corps of nurses, was sent to Cuba. 
Surgeon Fairfax, wishing to be near her, asked to 
be assigned to duty, which was granted. Freda 
Waters, the beautifiil Red Cross nurse, began a new 
life amid changed conditions and distressing scenes. 

12 


CHAPTER II 


O, thou child of many prayers! 

Life hath quicksands — Life hath snares! 

Care and age come unawares. 

— Longfellow. 

Ben Henderson was among the slaves of John 
Henderson, who lived near Petersburgh, Va., where 
he held large possessions. Ben was known as the 
most handsome jet-black negro of his community. 
His wife, Maria, was tall and very dark, showing all 
the characteristics of her African descent. Of the four 
children bom to Ben and Maria, one was William, 
known as “ Lanky.” Ben died, leaving his wife with 
the care of these four children, who were unable to 
be of much assistance to their mother. 

William Henderson, known as “Lanky” among 
his associates, received this distinction at the age 
of ten years, being very tall and slender. His 
mother being a widow he was denied many of the 
necessities of life. They lived in a hamlet near 
Richmond, Va. He attended the village school 
and was known as one of the brightest pupils there. 
At this age he exhibited a great trait of character 
for leadership. His playmates never disputed his *- 
authority, owing to his pugnacious disposition. 
Marauding parties, led by Lanky, wrought much 
havoc among the neighboring farmers, and caused 
much anxiety to his mother. The weather was 
never too rough nor the distance too far for Lanky 
and his band of marauders. The band’s depreda- 
tions had become unbearable, so it was decided 
to send Lanky to an uncle who agreed to raise and 
educate him. He was sent to the city of Richmond 
where he attended the public school until he was 
eighteen years old, leading his classes in athletic 

13 


sports. His oft-expressed desire to be a soldier 
was realized one day after a stormy scene with his 
uncle, who attempted to admonish him for some 
of his misdeeds, saying, “William, I will not tolerate 
your acts any longer; you must settle down to 
something that will be of service to you.” The 
next day a tall, active young colored man applied 
to the recruiting station and asked to be assigned 
to a regiment. Having passed the mental and 
physical examinations, he was sent to Fort Robinson, 
where the Ninth Cavalry was in camp. The many 
Indian uprisings at that time required much scout- 
ing. In these expeditions Henderson was one of 
the foremost to volunteer. His courage was never 
disputed, and he won many medals in pistol and 
rifle contests. He rapidly rose in rank from 1888 
until 1898, when we find him receiving the appoint- 
ment as Sergeant. 

Baiquiri and Siboney, near the entrance of 
Santiago Harbor, Cuba, were very lively places 
when the Ninth Cavalry arrived in the latter part 
of June, 1898, to engage the Spaniards. The scene 
was one that shall never be forgotten. Men, who 
had left their loved ones at home, were in a new 
region infested with disease, venomous reptiles, 
and a hostile enemy, who depended solely upon 
guerrilla warfare. Only those endowed with pa- 
triotic love for their country, and who were willing 
to lay down their lives for the glory of the Stars 
and Stripes, were there, and the anxiety for action 
overshadowed all melancholy thoughts of the loved 
ones far away. 

Henderson, in charge of a detachment, was sent 
ahead to guard the advance of the Commissary. 

“General, there will be some lively times here 
and the boys are very anxious,” said Captain 
Jenkins, of Steamer Ma^iower, to General Fimston, 
“and as our ships have only had rifle practice, the 
boys aboard are anxious for some real work.” 


14 


“Oh, they will get it!” retorted General Funston, 
“but you fellows out there on the water can see 
what you are doing, while we boys on shore can be 
picked off at leisure, but everytlung is in readiness. 
The transport, bearing the hospital equipment and 
the Red Cross nurses, has arrived, and we have 
selected a very desirable site for them.” 

“My, what a pretty lot of girls there are among 
them. Who is in charge of the hospital corps. 
General?” 

“Surgeon Fairfax, of Washington, D. C., a bright 
and able fellow. I know the family well. Miss 
Freda Waters, his foster sister, is one of the corps 
of nurses.” 

“General, I must get aboard ship. I’d like to 
have you dine with me, if convenient,” and with 
the usual military salutation the General and 
Captain separated. 

“How do you do, Surgeon? I learned that you 
were here,” and with these words he grasped the 
hand of a tall, military young man with piercing 
black eyes, whose nervous temperament was not 
befitting a man of his profession. 

“Glad to see you. General, and always trust 
to see you as you are at the present time. I would 
not have been here, but I must be near Freda. You 
know she is inexperienced in this field and will 
need a strong arm to guide her. ’ ’ 

“Oh, well, she can care for herself, and if she 
doesn’t contract a fever you may have no fear for 
her safety.” 

Saluting the General the Surgeon turned his 
footsteps toward the camp; the General to his 
headquarters. 

On a beautiful hill, shaded by palm trees, a short 
distance from the road which leads to the harbor, 
was a row of tents surrounding one large tent. 
The emblem, a huge red cross, shone out clearly 
in the morning sun. This little village, as we may 


15 


term it, was all quiet and serene. The simple 
arrangements of the cots, white and spotless, only- 
bespoke of the care taken by those in charge. That 
little army, whose arduous labors bringing more 
personal satisfaction than honor achieved, was 
as brave in the discharge of their duties as any 
soldier who fell under their care, and that Christ- 
like influence over the unfortunate did more to 
bring back to health than all the medicine admin- 
istered by the surgeons. This was where Freda 
found happiness. 

Little did she dream that it would be here that 
circumstances, over which she had no direct control, 
would so shape themselves as to revolutionize her 
heartfelt desires; and at night, when she knelt 
at her bedside, she prayed that she would be made 
strong to do the work ordained by Him who said : 

'‘Blessed are they that mourn; 

For they shall he comforted.'' 

Those who were near her, gazing upon the inno- 
cent face, saw a pictme of determined resolution, 
and as she said “Good Night,” her eyes shone with 
a spirit of content and love for all mankind. With- 
out, the silent tread of the sentinel, the deep stillness 
of the night, the anxious forebodings of impending 
happenings pictiu'ed a scene of mental unrest. 
Not very far from the hospital tent was a row of 
gray canvas houses, presenting a village of mam- 
moth proportions. There were streets, avenues, 
and a large space to be used as assembly or parade 
grounds. Far beyond, mid trees and underbrush, 
sulked a race whose hot-tempered blood saw nothing, 
knew nothing, only the avenging spirit of conquest. 
Shrewd, alert, pantherlike, ever ready to spring 
at the throats of their prey, they, the Spaniards, 
lay and wait for the inhabitants of the village to 
begin action; and so the clouds of night, slowly 
incasing the earth, brought to a close a day of 


16 


anxiety. Far away, loved ones prayed to God 
that he would watch over, guide, and protect those 
who would give their lives for their country. 

The break of day found the soldiers resting on 
their arms, and from Washington throughout the 
United States, the all-absorbing topic, “What will 
happen next?” was the prevailing question. Spain, 
realizing the enormous task before her, prepared 
herself for a long siege. Her best and most powerful 
battleships were sent to these shores. The long- 
drawn out conflict between the Spaniards and the 
Cubans, lasting ten years, only served to make 
her more determined to crush the proud spirit of 
the United States. This country, knowing of the 
hard struggle for independence and freedom of the 
little island of Cuba, had, in a small measure, 
aided the inhabitants to secure that which we all 
love. The noble manner in which they had fought 
a greater and more powerful foe gained for them 
that regard and respect due to individuals and 
countries; so the sympathy of the world, fortified 
by the will of God. The United States had begun 
a war for the elimination of despotism and tyranny, 
supplanting the same with the new reign of law 
and justice to all mankind ; thus we have the motive 
for this great conflict to be waged relentlessly, 
until liberty stands predominant upon the Western 
Hemisphere. 

The sound of the bugle, the tap of the drum, 
brought the army to attention. Couriers were 
received and dispatched; transports arriving, on 
which was Colonel Roswell with his roughriders, 
a formidable array of fighters, strong, active, 
reared in the West, known as cowboys and ranch- 
men, not considering the dangers, but like their 
leader was ever ready to be in the thickest of the 
fray. 

“How far is it to the hill. General? We’re going ^ 
to take the block house,” was the greeting the 

17 


Colonel gave when General Funston received him 
in camp. 

“Oh, not very far, Colonel; but you must be 
careful; those devils are l3dng in ambush, and they 
are all sharpshooters and will pick you off at will.” 

“Spaniards or no Spaniards, we’re frothing at 
the mouth, and our object is to take the hill.” 
With these words he saluted the General and left 
for the camp of roughriders. 

Henderson, starting on a scouting expedition, 
made the following report to General Fimston: 

“General, we have found that it is almost im- 
possible to make an open charge against these red 
devils, owing to the growth of the underbrush, 
which is even far better than trenches. It gives 
the enemy perfect shelter and exposes us to a deadly 
fire. I learn that the roughriders are about to take 
the hill; you must persuade them to desist. The 
act is not only foolhardy but suicidal, and will 
cause a useless loss of life. In making observations, 
I ran across a Spaniard lying in the ambush near 
the outpost; after a little exercise with him I 
brought him in. He is now in the guard tent; I 
wish you would look him over. We may win from 
him some information that would be of some inter- 
est.” 

Sergeant Henderson and General Funston wended 
their way to the guard house. 

Pete, known as a body servant to General Funston, 
who had lived with the General for years as his 
house servant, uneducated, unskilled, loving his 
master better than he loved himself, was destined 
to become a factor in this romantic life. No one 
ever paid any serious attention to Pete. He was 
respected only for the position he held and often 
accepted abuse at the hands of others rather than 
complain to his master; yet, within that black 
body was a heart with as deep a feeling as any of 
his superiors. It was this man who gained the 

18 


regard of Henderson and became his true friend. 
It was this man who also became the true friend 
of Freda. It was the love for justice of this man 
that brought to a successful conclusion the many- 
perplexing incidents connected with their lives. 
His noble character brought for him that esteem 
and affection he so honestly deserved. As circum- 
stances forced him in his present capacity, he was 
not endowed with that spirit of bravery, and often 
shrank at the sound of shot and shell; but as time 
went on, and being so closely associated with danger, 
Pete was always there to administer to the weak 
and fallen, rendering service of much value. There 
was a sentimental part in Pete’s life which was 
quite natural, as he was but human, and when 
fate brought him and Quito together the incidents 
surrounding their romantic courtship were rather 
amusing. 

Quito, a young widow of a Cuban soldier who 
was killed just prior to the opening of hostilities, 
was found one day by Surgeon Fairfax lurking near 
the entrance of the hospital tent. After careful 
investigation, it was decided to have her wait upon 
the nurses. Speaking very little English, but 
realizing her position, she soon became the ward 
of Freda, who took special interest in this poor 
unfortunate woman. Looking upon Pete as one 
in her own sphere they soon became great friends, 
and were often seen together. Thus, we find Cupid 
playing pranks with the unlettered, as well as 
shooting his arrow at the heart of sterner material. 

So we find a life of happiness amid gruesome 
scenes, and who could foretell the climax of this 
eventful beginning, for it was very shortly after 
that the sound of rifle was heard one clear morning, 
long before those sleeping peacefully in their homes 
were awake, and at gray dawn of that memorable 
day the word was passed through camp that Colonel 
Roswell and his roughriders were on their way to 

19 


take the blockhouse. A call to arms was hurriedly 
given. Out from that village black heroes rushed. 
In the distance the firing of musketry could be 
heard, and the first real battle was on. The rough- 
riders were being cut down and their fearless leader, 
with his remaining comrades, stood in danger of 
complete annihilation. 

Who can save them ? Who will save them ? 
Couriers arrive with the news that hope is almost 
gone, but without one word of command from 
superior officers. Sergeant Henderson dashed forth 
followed by his true heroic comrades. Into the 
deep thicket they plunged, disorganized in forces; 
they fought man for man, hand to hand, body and 
soul in action. 

“Ow through the battle's crush, 

With hut one thought ajlush, 

Driving their lords like chaff, 

At the guns' mouths they laugh; 

At the slippery brands, 

Leaping with open hands, 

Down they tear, man and horse; 

Down in their awful course. 

All their eyes forward bent. 

Rushed the Black Regiment!" 

— Baker. 

Far upon the road leading to the blockhouse, 
surrounded by a few brave followers. Colonel 
Roswell is seen, sword in hand, battling against 
superior numbers, which must only fall soon by 
the advancing enemy. The Stars and Stripes are 
trailing in the dust on the hillside; the groans of 
the wounded and the shrieks of the dying added 
havoc to this foolhardy undertaking; but above 
the din of battle, a voice is clearly heard: “Hold 
your own. Colonel; we’re coming!’’ It was only 
a few yards between Henderson and his comrades 
that the massive form of the Colonel was seen to 
swerve, but Henderson had gained the hill. 

20 


Pandemonium reigned; the day was saved, and the 
Stars and Stripes again waved in the sunlight of that 
memorable morning. Reinforced by General Funston, 
the scattered army was again united, and mid the 
singing of “A Hot Time in the Old Town To-night,” 
the famous Ninth and Tenth Cavalries returned to 
camp. But the price of victory was high; among the 
many wounded brought to camp was Sergeant Hen- 
derson. The blanched faces, depicting anxiety for 
this black hero, were everywhere prevalent. Deep 
silence reigned without, which was only broken by 
the arrival of General Funston, who had followed 
Henderson to the relief of the roughriders. 

“Surgeon, is Henderson mortally wounded?” 

“No, General, but he needs care.” 

“Surgeon, you must save this man’s life; for 
such gallantry displayed by him I have never 
witnessed before.” 

Many cots in the hospital were soon receiving 
the heroic wounded, and after they had been tenderly 
cared for and made comfortable as possible, we 
find General Funston standing at the cot of Hender- 
son, with Freda in attendance. 

“Tell us how it happened. General. Tell us of 
the battle.” 

“It was this way: We were resting quietly on 
our arms in camp, thinking of our loved ones far 
away. I was seated in my tent preparing my report 
to be sent to headquarters at Washington. Hearing 
a few scattered shots, paying little heed to the same 
until the sentinel came to me with the news that 
Colonel Roswell and his roughriders were on their 
way to take the hill, not dreaming that he would 
put into execution such a rash act, when, all at 
once, I could hear firing of muskets, and with the 
aid of my glass I saw that it was all too true. 
Roswell and his roughriders had started and were 
being hemmed in on all sides and cut down like 
chaff before the wind. At that moment Sergeant 


21 


Henderson came in to me, sa5dng: ‘General, the 
roughriders are being cut down and we must save 
them.’ Without waiting for orders he rushed from 
the camp. I heard his orders, and in less time than 
it takes to tell it, those black demons had plunged 
into the thicket. With the detachment I followed 
halfway up the hill. I saw the Colonel, sabre in 
hand, fighting like mad. Around him, on every 
side, were Spaniards; his men dropping here and 
there. When out from the smoke and muskets I 
saw Henderson, sword in hand, cutting to the 
right and to the left. Down he plunged into the 
thicket; out again upon the plain, until there only 
remained a short distance between him and the 
Colonel. I saw the color bearers shot down, and I 
heard the groans of the wounded; when over the 
prostrate forms of his own brave men Henderson 
plunged, and I heard his voice, clear and distinct, 
shouting, ‘Charge!’ and mid the shots of enemies’ 
rifles he reached the Colonel’s side, followed by his 
brave comrades. They gained the hill and saved 
the day. With confusion the enemy retreated.” 

With bowed head the General withdrew. Freda 
bent over the form of Henderson and uttered a 
soft prayer that God would spare him to enjoy the 
fruits of victory, and from that moment there awoke 
in that sleeping heart thoughts of future happiness, 
and she pictured there that which she never had 
dreamed, ‘‘That life is worth living.” She was 
awakened from her reverie by the arrival of Colonel 
Roswell. Forcing his way past the guards and 
rushing to the cot on which Henderson lay, he was 
tenderly restrained by Freda, saying: 

‘‘You must not wake him; he needs rest. I will 
nurse him back to health.” 

‘‘I know you will,” replied the Colonel, “for he 
is too brave a man to die, and we need his service. 
You will tell him that I asked for him when he 
wakes.” With these words the Colonel departed. 

22 


Long through the vigil of the night a living angel 
watched over this semi-conscious hero, guided by 
the thought that duty commanded her to make a 
sacrifice, and to remain awake that any physical 
turn for the worse would be arrested, and, as God 
had given this hero to the world, for his recovery 
she felt that she was personally responsible. The 
sudden twitching of the muscles, that exhibited 
the restless nature of this sleeping patient, at times 
startled her and, after giving him a mild opiate 
prescribed by the surgeon, he relapsed into peaceful 
slumber, with the word “mother” escaping from 
those unconscious lips. This magic word Freda 
caught, and again that thought, “Who am I” rose 
like a spectre before her. It was not very long 
before Henderson was able to take mild exercise. 
This he would do in charge of his nurse. They 
talked of home and the prospects of peace. At 
times he would often stray from her watchful care 
and would be found at the headquarters of the 
General, begging to be allowed to return to duty. 
The General, realizing his weakened condition, 
admonished his nurse not to permit the Sergeant 
to go beyond the hospital lines. 

“Sergeant, you’ve walked enough, and I, as your 
nurse, must see that you return to your cot. Now, 
won’t you come with me?” With these words she 
stopped to retrace her steps toward the hospital, 
and the childlike appeal seemed to unman this 
fearless soldier. He stood as one bewitched, not 
knowing how to reply; then his strength of power 
returned and he said : 

“Miss Waters, ever since I have been under your 
care there is a deeper wound far greater than any 
given by this enemy; a wound which medical 
science cannot heal. The ravages of war only serve 
to make life glorious or inglorious. There are men 
far happier whose bodies lie cold upon the battle 
field than those whose very soul has been condemned 


23 


to eternal living. Why did you let me live 
when the chasm between us cannot be bridged? 
Why, Oh why, did God in His infinite grace allow 
a heart, whose whole thought was for the glory of 
his country, to sulk and cower under the magnetic 
influence of one so weak in physical force, yet 
unconsciously making a slave of sterner stuff. 
Leave me! I return to duty. Thine eyes are not 
for mine. Thy soul belongs above.” 

Then, as a criminal having confessed for a crime, 
he attempted to leave her, but Freda restrained 
him, saying, “Wait, Sergeant! Hear me! Hear 
me! You know not who I am; I know not myself. 
WTien a babe I was left in care of others, reared in 
luxury of wealth, surrounded by loved ones. I 
never knew the love of a mother save that of my 
nurse, one of your race, who, through her tears, 
sang me to sleep. I can see her now, tenderly caring 
and watching over me, and, until I was taken from 
her, I loved her as though she were my own dear 
mother. The world was cold and dreary, and the 
happiness of the unfortunate seemed to call to me, 
crying, ‘Mercy!’ My life was a blank until that 
fateful night you were brought to the hospital tent, 
and, after bending over you, a whispered word 
escaped from your lips, the word ‘Mother!’ Then 
hearing the words of praise for the gallantry dis- 
played by you upon the battle field, of your sacrifice 
in the discharge of your duty. Sergeant Henderson, 
I saw in you that which all women see when their 
soul is awakened to the thought that life holds all 
that is dear to us; and, as you will leave me, let 
this be our prayer, that, though the laws of the 
land forbid, there is a higher law where souls may 
rest in peace in that world where parting is no more.” 

“Stop! You have no right to tempt me. Let 
us forget this day. Let it become a part of the 
forgotten night. Let not even a s3mibol of reflection 


24 


of our thoughts return. Let the memories waft on 
the distant horizon.” 

Before she could restrain his action he was gone. 
But, alas! These declarations of two souls were 
overheard. As though sent by the gods of destruc- 
tion, Sur geon F airfax heard all. L ' 

What can this mean ? Can the woman who gave 
up all the pleasures of this world for the care of the 
afflicted and the unfortunate, love this Othello ? 
Can this woman, whom I loved in my childhood, 
be as Desdemona, that loved Othello for his brave 
deeds? Is it true that she has awakened from her 
lethargy, to see life as other women? If so, I swear 
by the gods to thwart every act of his that would 
rob me of the only woman in this world for me.” 

In the stillness of the early evening, while the 
breezes wafted through the palm trees, this man 
swore to avenge a fancied wrong of a comrade. 
’Mid the glory of victory, sorrow took control of 
three hearts at the dictates of fate. 

Here we find Henderson, in a weakened condition, 
at the headquarters of General Funston. 

“General, I am all right. I feel well enough to 
return to duty. Don’t send me back to the hospital 
again; the boys all miss me.” 

There he stood; a hero of many engagements; 
a man who smiled in the face of danger, pleading 
to his superior offlcer like a school boy. Any place, 
anywhere, than back to the hospital tent where 
he would come in contact with the woman who 
was robbing him of his earthly existence. The 
wounding of his heart was far greater than the 
wounding of his body, for he dare not hope for that 
which was beyond lus power, and he stood silently 
awaiting the General’s reply. 

“Henderson, you are not strong enough for active 
duty, and I command you to remain under the care 
of the Surgeon until he discharges you as physically 
fit for service. That is my ultimatiun.” With a 


25 


commanding gesture to put his command into 
execution, he arose, and without a word pointed 
his finger direct to the hospital tent. With bowed 
head and a sad heart Henderson returned to the 
hospital. 

And Freda; in the communion of her thoughts 
there arose these perplexing questions, “Who am 
I? What have I done that the gods of fate have 
erushed my ambition? Why is my life, at one time 
a moment of sunshine, blighted by the dark shadows 
of remorse? Are the sins of the fathers visited 
upon me as one of their children?” And, in this 
solitude of melancholy, she wept herself to sleep. 

Fairfax, the man of hot Southern temperament, 
reared in the luxuries of this world, his every wish 
gratified, no one daring to dispute his power, stood 
as a panther at bay. In a tent, especially built 
and equipped for an operating room and laboratory, 
seated at a small table, was this soldier of medical 
science; and the distressing incidents, leading up 
to the present time, changed this man’s very being. 
The teachings of his early youth had no influence 
over him at this time, and, with these words, “He 
must die!” he prepared a drug to be administered 
to Henderson, in the guise of medicine. “This is 
the last medicine he shall take, for, when he sleeps, 
it will be his last.” And fate, as if playing to the 
will of the gods of fate, Freda entered. 

“Surgeon, Henderson has returned, and I fear 
he has overtaxed his strength. Will you go to him? ” 

“Freda,” spoke Fairfax, reaching for his hat, 
“You’ll find Henderson’s medieine all prepared; 
give it to him when you think he needs it. I am 
in a hurry; I have some important duties to per- 
form.” As if sentenced by his conscience for his 
dastardly aet he left the tent. 

With anxious steps Freda returned to the hospital 
proper, and there, seated on his cot, was Henderson. 
Noticing symptoms of nervousness, brought about, 


26 


as she thought, by overtaxing his strength, she 
again returned to the laboratory, procured the 
medicine prepared by the Surgeon, and returned 
to administer it to her hero patient. 

“Here, Sergeant, take this; then you will rest.” 

As if receiving a command from his superior 
Henderson took the fatal drug. The effect was 
instantaneous, and with a languid yawn he fell 
back on his cot. Freda, believing that she had 
administered only a mild opiate, prepared him that 
he might rest comfortably, and returned to her 
various duties. 

Fairfax little dreamed, when he prepared that 
drug, that Providence had ordained that its effect 
would not be as far reaching as destined by him, 
and that its victim was a man of indomitable, 
physical and mental construction, and so, instead 
of being in a state of coma, awaiting the slow 
exhausting vitality of this black hero, it had the 
opposite effect, and we find the Sergeant delirious. 
Having rushed from the tent, running toward the 
headquarters of General Funston as if making a 
charge at the enemy, he shouted, at the top of his 
voice, “Charge! I say, back! Back, you dogs! 
You shall not take her from me. I love her! I love 
her!” 

The General, having been notified of Henderson’s 
queer actions, met him at the entrance of his head- 
quarters. Henderson, like a wild man, fell exhausted 
at the General’s feet. By the aid of loving com- 
rades he was assisted back to the hospital. General 
Funston gave orders that Henderson should be 
returned to his home in Richmond, and preparations 
were made for his speedy departure. 

After several engagements with the Spaniards, 
in which much heroism was displayed, the famous 
sea battle off Santiago Harbor, and many minor 
incidents, brought the victorious invasion of the 
United States troops to a successful close. So we 

27 


find them leaving the distressing scenes the latter 
part of fall, 1898; some to their homes, others to 
various places where they were assigned. It was 
at this time that we find Fairfax and his sister 
returning to their home in Washington. He, with 
the conscious dread for the guilty crime committed; 
she, with the anxious foreboding as to the fate of 
her ideal man. 


28 


CHAPTER III 


All this the world knows well; yet none knows well 
To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell. 

— Shakespeare. 

Ten thousand miles from our last scenes of 
military activities, a semi-civilized country where 
barbarism and idolatry reigned, a tropical climate, 
tmexplored, inhabited by a race short in stature, 
a mixture of Mongolian, Spanish and Malay, we 
find ourselves, through conquest of war, possessors. 
Not far away is the beautiful country of Japan, 
with its picturesque rivers, temperate climate, and 
a small, but progressive race. In the harbor of 
Nagasaki, Japan, we find the United States trans- 
port, “Warren,” resting at anchor. On board are 
troops assigned for duty in the Philippines. The 
harbor is bedecked with vessels belonging to the 
Japanese Navy, all in holiday attire. The welcome 
accorded the arrival of the “Warren” by this little 
brown-raced coimtry was very cordial, and the 
reception tendered the officers was of the highest 
social and military courtesy. The reciprocal ex- 
changes, lasting for a short period, gave new vigor 
to the fighting craft, whose destiny was Manila in 
the Philippine Islands. Shortly after, upon arrival, 
in the early fall of 1900, the regiments were assigned 
to the departments of Southern Luzon. The several 
detachments were distributed to different points; 
some to Pasacao; others to the Bay of Miguel; 
others at Nueva Caceres and Legaspi. With horses 
and rations ashore, the regiment made preparations 
for an active campaign, and we find our heroes 
once more in a hostile country, making prepara- 
tions for the establishing of sovereignty by the 
United States. 


29 


The Philippines, being one of the many Spanish 
possessions, was allowed, for centuries, to map out 
its own destiny. There we find an uncultivated 
country populated by an illiterate race. The 
progress made by the Japanese and the Missionaries 
had little or no effect upon it, and the country was 
under the control of bandits, who existed by captur- 
ing the wealthy and holding them for ransom. 
Here lived Aguinaldo, who had gathered about 
him the most crafty of his race, and whose power 
was never disputed. It was this bandit chieftain 
that the United States had to contend with, and the 
aggressive campaign to be waged was to be of relent- 
less character. 

For years the guerrilla warfare between Spain 
and this bandit chieftain was a source of much 
anxiety to the sovereignty of Spain. The progress 
of this conflict cost many lives, with no result 
attained. The rich rubber forest was an incentive 
revenue for grafting filibusters, which netted them 
sufficient income for their adventurous conquest. 
Manila, the capital, situated at the head of Manila 
Bay, the headquarters of the army, was a very 
enterprising city. It was here, at this place, where 
Admiral Dewey made history by entering over 
the mines laid by the Spaniards. It was here where 
he received the distinction by Congress as being 
the greatest living Admiral. It is here, in this city, 
where the United States troops are stationed; 
where plots and counter-plots are being laid against 
the government and individuals; but we will go 
back to when we left the shores of Cuba. 

At the close of hostilities between the United 
States and Spain the regiments remained under 
arms for orders. A protectorate, having been 
proclaimed by the United States over the islands, 
was all that was necessary at this period. The 
rebuilding, the re-establishing of commerce, and the 
removal of the troops, was the cleaning-up task 

30 


of the United States. Thus the departure of Surgeon 
Fairfax, accompanied by his foster sister, Freda, 
and Quito. The tender affection of Freda for Quito, 
and the thought that Quito would again be thrown 
upon her own resources, with no one to care for her, 
were the reasons given why Freda decided to bring 
her to Washington. Under the tutelage of Freda, 
Quito became quite proficient in English. Her 
loyalty to her mistress was unquestioned, and 
they were always seen together, seeming only to be 
happy when near each other. They confided in 
one another, and Freda enjoyed many pleasant 
moments with this unlettered girl, taking great 
delight instructing her as to modern customs. 
In exchange, she taught Freda Spanish, and they 
were often found together reviewing each other 
as to the progress made. They were discovered 
at one time by Surgeon Fairfax, down near a brook 
running through the estate, and the Surgeon, 
wishing to speak to Freda alone, commanded 
Quito to return to the house. It was here that her 
Spanish blood asserted itself and she retorted, 
“You hava no righta to maka me go away. Misa 
Freda go with me ! “ 

The Surgeon was amazed and stepping forward 
attempted to administer a rebuke to the unfortun- 
ate Quito, but was restrained by Freda, saying, 
“Surgeon Fairfax, no gentleman ever strikes a 
lady,” and, taking Quito by the hand, she started 
for the house.” 

“One moment, Freda, I have something to say 
to you.” 

“You will pardon me. Surgeon, you may see 
me this evening,” and with a haughty mien, as if 
hurt by the Surgeon’s act, she returned to the house. 

Here were the lives of two unfortunates. One 
blest with wealth, but unhappy; the other ignorant 
of the ways of the world, but blest by having a 
benefactress; and so, although unhappy, Freda 

31 


gleaned much pleasure by giving her life for the 
care of the unfortunate Quito. Arriving at the 
house, Quito was sent to her room, and Freda 
sought her foster mother, to map out the program 
for the following day. 

The many organizations for the relief of the 
unfortunate, of which Mrs. Fairfax was prominently 
associated, gave Freda an opportunity to be a 
valuable assistant; she, with others, making gar- 
ments for the poor, visiting the distressed, the 
penal institutions, and calling upon the sick. 

One day, while on an errand of mercy, she was 
called upon to visit an old colored lady, who was 
known throughout the neighborhood in which she 
lived as Aunt Maria. This eccentric old lady had 
supported herself by telling fortunes, but in later 
years her active mind became impaired by age, and 
she lost manyof her patrons. It was said that during 
her palmiest days she could relate the past and 
foretell the future of any one who crossed her hand 
with silver, as they termed pay. Being well known, 
the charitably-loving citizens cared for her in her 
cottage, instead of having her removed to a chari- 
table institution. It was here, that, when Freda 
entered, she was greeted with “Sit down, Freda, 
I knew you’d be here.” 

Astounded by being called by her name, Freda 
replied, “How did you know my name? ” 

“Oh, I know yoiu* mother; I know your father.” 
Then, lapsing into silence, she held out her hand. 

Freda, knowing the eccentric character of Aunt 
Maria, opened her purse and placed in her hand a 
silver piece. Deep silence and a penetrating glance 
caused Freda to feel very anxious, and she wondered 
what could the old woman know about her? Could 
she really read from her eyes the history of her 
heritage? With these perplexing thoughts she sat 
waiting for Aunt Maria to proceed. Still holding 
Freda’s hand in a firm grasp, she said, “You were 

32 


bom not far from Richmond, on a beautiful farm. 
Your father died when you were quite young. 
Your mother awaits yotu* coming; she has disowned 
you and is held by a great power. Her lips are 
sealed, but some day the power that holds them 
will be broken, and you will be happy.’’ With a 
Satanic laugh she released her hand. 

Freda, knowing the weakness of Aunt Maria’s 
mind, thought nothing more of the incident, and 
having a basket of provisions to deliver, she arose, 
and, to please the old lady, she put her arms aroimd 
her saying, “Good-by, Aunt Maria, I will come 
to see you again.’’ 

But there was no smile on the old lady’s face, 
and a penetrating look seemed to awe Freda as she 
left the little home. But, once without, her genial 
manner returned, and she felt that she had done 
one more commendable act in administering to 
the worthy poor. 

“Take me home, James,’’ was the order given 
her coachman, and very shortly she was entering 
the magnificent estate of Rosewood. 

“You must be tired, my dear. Where have you 
been and what have you done?’’ was the greeting 
of Mrs. Fairfax. 

“Oh, mother, I met the funniest old colored lady 
who could tell fortimes. She told mine, and the 
many things she said! I’m going to see her again; 
you’ll go with me, won’t you? I can’t tell all now; 
I’m a little tired and hungry,’’ and, laughing like 
a careless child, she kissed her foster mother and 
rushed to her own room. She was soon joined by 
Quito, who was to prepare her mistress for dinner, 
and, with the words “What will you wear?’’ she 
began to disarrange her mistress’s hair. 

Seated around a beautiful dining table, that 
evening, was the happy Fairfax family. Mrs. 
Fairfax, just passed the prime of womanhood, 
was tall and majestic. One, looking upon that 

33 


aristocratic countenance, would liken her unto 
the queen rose, with every petal unfurled, all of 
which added to its grace and beauty. Seated at 
her right was the pride and heir to the Fairfax 
fortunes, whose deep, black eyes displayed the 
strong Southern temperament inherited from his 
father. In contrast, on the left is Freda, whose 
childlike, innocent expression seemed to have power 
to allay fear, yet endowed with strong force of 
determination. A sumptuous repast was being 
served and enjoyed, and the world seemed to be 
at peace with all mankind. Each one seemed to 
be involved in his or her own thoughts, as if awaiting 
the attack of the other. 

The Surgeon, realizing his hasty act during the 
afternoon, sat waiting for a word from Freda. 

Mrs. Fairfax, noticing the calmness' between 
the two, seemed at a loss as to how to break the 
monotony, until she, at last, pleasantly remarked, 
“Well, is this a mum party?” 

Freda, not wishing her mother to know of the 
unpleasantness, laughingly replied, “I was just 
thinking of the fortune teller”; after which she 
again related her experience. 

The effect was marvelous, and that sombre party, 
of a few moments ago, are convulsed with laughter. 
After the last course was served the party retired 
to the library; Mrs. Fairfax saying pleasantly, 
“Surgeon, you may smoke if you join us. I have 
some plans to discuss with you and Freda. What 
do you say to a grand ball in honor of your past 
achievements?” 

After many exchanges of views, of which Freda 
took little or no part, the affair was settled, and 
Rosewood again extended to the social world the 
congenial hospitality it was so well noted for. 

Mechanical genius, coupled with the natural 
beauty of Rosewood, made a picture rivaling the 
splendor of the Arabian Nights on the occasion 

34 


of the grand ball given in honor of Surgeon Fairfax. 
The massive ball room with its mirrored floor, the 
conservatory with its rare plants and flowers, the 
extensive lawn with its many nooks and by-ways, 
where little tete-a-tetes could be enjoyed, made 
Rosewood an improvised Garden of Eden. Every- 
thing that wealth afforded was brought to bear 
to keep from this ball any approach of sorrow. 
The Foreign Embassy, the glittering uniforms of 
the American Army and Navy, and the gorgeous 
costumes worn by the Eastern Potentates, added 
lustre to the superb decorations. Mrs. Fairfax, 
attired in a Worth creation, nobly bore her position 
as hostess. Freda, in a very rich, but simple, gown 
was the center of attraction. Surgeon Fairfax 
came in for his share of attention by designing 
young matrons; while many retired widowers and 
bachelors, past middle age, gave an interesting 
glance at the hostess. Under the exhilarating 
influence of the inspiring strains of the musicians, 
hid from view by huge palms, the dancers flitted 
in and out. 

Count Schenzi, of the Spanish legation, was very 
ardent in his attentions to Freda, and she seemed 
to encourage him. Coquettishly taking his arm 
she led him to the conservatory. The Surgeon, 
noticing the flattering attention of the Count, 
seemed a little piqued, but made no comment. 
It was evident that he was ill at ease. The Count, 
finding Freda well versed in Spanish, was deeply 
interested. 

“Where did you learn my language?” he asked, 
in his native tongue. “I would have thought you 
were bom in Spain.” 

“I have a Spanish teacher, whom I dearly love, 
and I will soon be able to speak as well as you. 
Count. ” 

The Count, taking Freda’s shapely hand in his, 
looked deep into her eyes, and said, “Miss Waters, 

35 


ever since I first saw you I admired you, and I 
have only awaited this opportunity to tell you that 
I love you. I would deem it a rare privilege to 
return to my country with you as my bride.” 

Noticing the pallor depicted on that innocent 
face, he released her hand. Then her self-control 
returned and, rising, she said in a soft voice, “Count 
Schenzi, I have known you so little; I am sorry 
that any act of mine influenced you to make the 
declaration you have. There are many more inter- 
esting girls than I, and it is my wish that one so 
noble in birth may find one equal to grace the 
honored position as Countess. Not one word 
more,” as he was about to speak. “You will take 
me to the ballroom,” and, as if leading a tamed 
animal, without one word passing between them, 
Freda returned on the arm of the Count. At the 
entrance of the ball room she was met by the Sur- 
geon, who claimed her for a dance, and she was 
soon a part of the gay throng. 

It was shortly after midnight that this gathering 
began to disperse, and three tired souls, glad of the 
social distinction achieved and to be alone once 
more, rested. 

It was on the following day that a new phase in 
Freda’s life was to be encountered; for it was while 
she stood looking out of the window of the library, 
deep with her own thoughts, that she was approached 
by the Surgeon. Taking her by the hand, he drew 
her to the big leather chair, and with a motion of 
his hand bade her be seated. Then, standing close 
to her, and in a strong, persuasive voice said, 
“Freda, my mother is getting old, and she is all 
that is near and dear to us. You remember when 
but a young girl you were brought to us by my dear 
father, as a playmate for me. You recall our child- 
hood days; romping over the hills and galloping 
over the plains. Those days were the brightest 
days of my youth. After you became a young 

36 


lady you were sent abroad to finish your education. 
Skilled in music and art you returned to us to 
brighten our home. You went away a bright sun- 
shine; you returned a crushed flower. Instead of 
being full of life and joy, you cared very little for 
the social world. At your own sweet will you laid 
aside those talents that would make you the most ad- 
mired of all women, to enter the field of useful labor. 
Fm not censuring you; that is far beyond my 
thoughts, and my sole reason for speaking to you now 
is to tell you what I have told you before, ‘ I love you. ’ 
If you refuse me it will break my mother’s heart. It 
is her life’s ambition. I have ever3rthing to offer 
you — wealth and position. Tell me that you will be 
my wife!” and then, as if his request was granted, 
he attempted to take her into his arms. 

But Freda, like a frightened deer brought to 
bay, gained her feet, and standing erect, she raised 
a restraining hand, and in a clear voice replied, 
“Surgeon, it is far too true that I owe all to you 
and your dear mother for what I am to-day; the 
care and education I received, through the kindness 
of her heart, I am extremely grateful for. Why 
did your father bring me here? Who am I? Why 
do I exist in this hall of mystery?’ I see, I five, I 
love; not in the world of life and happiness, but 
to soothe the wounds of the unfortunate I give my 
all. It is true that you have asked me to be your 
wife many times before, and, as I owe a debt of 
gratitude to you and your mother, I now promise 
to become your wife — on one condition — that when 
the mystery of my parentage is clear, and you think 
then as you do now, I give this frail life in payment 
for the blessings I have enjoyed in my youth. 
Now, Surgeon, your plea is accepted. Leave me! 
Leave me ! I want to be alone. ’ ’ 

Surgeon Fairfax stood for a moment as one awed, 
then bowing gallantly, as if being satisfied with 
the progress made, he left the room. 

37 


Once alone Freda gave way to her sentimental 
nature and burst into a flood of tears. Quito, in 
search of her mistress, found her weeping as if her 
heart would break. Knowing that something un- 
usual had occurred, she gently raised her mistress, 
and placing her tender arms around the slight form, 
she was led to her room. 

Surgeon Fairfax went straight to his mother’s 
apartments to tell her the joyful news. 

“God bless you, my son! God bless you both!’’ 
and that mother’s heart went out to her boy whose 
every wish was her prayer. The world seemed full 
of joy for those two hearts, without a cloud to darken 
the future; but who can tell what will come to 
blight our lives and change our plans? Yet unseen 
Providence allows us to go on and on, catering to 
the dictates of our hearts, until we arrive just at 
the goal, and then exercising his superhuman 
power as to the success or failure of our well-set 
plans, makes his choice. 

After a restless night, Freda awoke with the 
determination to live up to her hasty contract, 
and, with the sublime consciousness that she was 
pa5dng a debt, she again looked the world squarely 
in the face with that utter regard for the happiness 
of others. 

All without was joy. The birds were singing 
their carols to their mates, flitting from bough to 
bough, while the rippling stream danced over the 
rocks and pebbles. The trees bowed in suppHcation 
to the soft breezes that blew through their ponderous 
arms, and God’s sun looked down and smiled, 
giving warmth to the earth, that all the subjects 
of Providence might be blessed. 


38 


CHAPTER IV 


Is there a man, whose judgment clear 
Can others teach the course to steer, 

Yet runs, himself, life’s mad career 
Wild as the wave? 

Here pause, and through the startling fear. 
Survey this grave. 

— Burns. 

Seated on a charger, acknowledging the military 
salutation of subjects and friends, rode General 
Funston. Not far behind him came Pete astride 
his favorite horse, Titus. General Funston was a 
well-known figure in the Capitol City, and had 
gained the distinction of being one of the favorites 
of military society 

Pennsylvania Avenue was lined with many mili- 
tary and civil folks and beautiful carriages were 
seen everywhere. The General, being a widower, 
it was hinted, among the knowing ones, that his 
mission to Rosewood was not always to visit the 
Surgeon. He was a welcome guest at all times, 
and we find him, this beautiful afternoon, galloping 
toward the grand Fairfax estate. 

Upon arrival, the General ordered Pete to take 
the horses to the stable, and there await his order. 
Pete seemed very pleased to accompany the General, 
as he, too, was anxious to pay an impromptu visit 
to one of the Fairfax household. After placing the 
horses in charge of the stable man, Pete decided 
on a course that would bring him near to the one 
whom he was so anxious to see. When General 
Funston was announced, Quito cast an anxious 
look into his face, as if to say, “Where’s Pete?’’ 
and it is not strange to say that a way was found 
by these two to see each other. 

39 


Mrs. Fairfax greeted the General very cordially, 
saying she was very pleased that he called at this 
time. Taking the General by the arm, she led him 
to the library. He, noticing a gleam of pleasure 
pictured on that stately countenance, gave himself 
credit for its appearance there. 

“My dear Mrs. Fairfax, how beautiful you look 
to-day; I know you must have expected me, and 
I’m glad that I came. I have been thinking of you 
since our last meeting.’’ 

“Oh, General, I hope you won’t allow me to charge 
you with flattery. Although I look upon you as 
my champion, yet I have something of importance 
to say to you. Freda has promised to be my son’s 
wife; that is why I am so happy. Isn’t it just 
grand? I know you will agree with me that it is a 
perfect match, and you will help us to arrange the 
plans for the wedding? ’’ 

“Accept my congratulations. I heartily agree 
with all you have said, and I’m sorry that you will 
be alone; therefore, I should think ’’ 

“There, there. General; this is no time for 
frivolity. Let us talk of the future prospects of 
the bride and groom.’’ 

These two matured minds discussed the plans 
that would join a caged soul to a heartless keeper, 
little knowing the deep thoughts of the captive, 
or realizing the result of a loveless union. 

In the orchard, down by the brook, away from the 
shadow of the mansion, were Quito and Pete, for- 
getting the cares of their mistress and master, 
wandering aimlessly from place to place. Seated 
on a rustic bench in one of the arbors, they were 
startled by the sound of ‘ ‘ Pete ! Pete ! ’ ’ and , looking 
up, they saw the form of a military man. They 
readily recognized an old friend, and as Henderson 
stepped forward, grasping both their hands in his, 
they were at a loss as what to say or do. 

40 


“Don’t be frightened, my friends, I’ll tell you 
why I’m here. I came onto the grounds by the 
river bank, and, seeing you, I knew I was safe; so 
I waited this opportunity to give you this little 
surprise. You well know that no one knows I’m 
here, and no one will know, if you have to tell them. 
Is this not so?” 

As if thoroughly understanding the exact meaning 
of his words, Pete grasped the hand of his soldier 
friend and said, “Sergeant, no one saw you come 
in; no one will see you go out. I’m glad you came; 
I know Miss Freda will be glad to see you. Shall 
I tell her you are here? ” 

“No! You must not do that. It will spoil my 
plans. I have a very important message for her, 
and must have an answer. I can trust you; that’s 
why I came this way, so as to avoid any unpleasant- 
ness in meeting Miss Freda,” and, drawing from 
his pocket, he placed into the hand of Pete a sealed 
letter, with these instructions: “Give this to no 
one but Miss Freda. Get a reply, and I will await 
your coming here. Will you do tliis for me? ” 

“Sergeant, I would give my life to serve you. 
You have been my friend, and I will do anything 
you may ask me.” Taking the letter in his hand 
he bade the Sergeant to await his return, and, as if 
he were glad to do his friend a service, he started 
for the house. 

Turning to Quito, Henderson bade her be seated. 
But realizing how long she had been absent from 
her mistress, she confidingly remarked, “No, Mr. 
Sergeant, I must go back. You know they misa 
Quito, and they all the time call — ‘Quito, coma 
here! Quito, geta this! Quito, geta that! Where 
hava you been, Quito’ So I musta go. You waita 
right here. Mr. Pete will coma back soon.” And 
again grasping the hand of her soldier friend, she 
dashed toward the house. 


41 


She was none too soon for, on entering the rear 
door, she heard the front-door bell ring, and rushing 
to answer its call she admitted Colonel Roswell. 

“Come right in. Colonel. Your friend is here, 
the General Funston.” Soon the Colonel was one 
of the party. 

“I knew you were here. General, for I saw your 
horses in the stable. Where is the Surgeon, my 
dear Madam? I came especially to pay him a 
call.“ 

“He is in his private study. Shall I call him?” 

“Oh, no, I will wait until he joins us.” 

“Colonel,” said Mrs. Fairfax, “I’m very glad 
you came. I have a pleasant surprise in store for 
you, and you shall know all about it very shortly. 
I will serve refreshments to you gentlemen, if you 
permit me.” Arising she touched the bell, which 
was answered by Quito. 

“Serve the Colonel and General with refresh- 
ments,” was her command, “and, by the way, 
Quito, tell the Surgeon that Colonel Roswell is 
here. Now, I’ll claim you two gentlemen as my 
prisoners until the Surgeon arrives; perhaps he 
may have something to say to you.” 

When Quito returned with the refreshments the 
party was joined by the Surgeon. 

“Welcome, friends, twice welcome, on this most 
auspicious occasion. I have a surprise in store for 
you; but first I must complete the details by pro- 
curing the principal in the affair. You will pardon 
my short absence.” 

After giving the usual salutation of his rank to 
his superior officers, and with a smile that denoted 
contentment and satisfaction, he went in search 
of Freda. He found her in the conservatory, sur- 
rounded by palms and rare flowers, gazing listlessly 
out upon the lawn. In her hand she held a crumpled 
missive, and, being taken unawares, was at a loss 
what to say; when, turning hastily around at the 

42 


approach of footsteps, she beheld the Surgeon, 
whom, a short time ago, she had given unto his 
keeping her future happiness. 

‘ ‘ Are you looking for me ? ’ ' 

“I am, my dear. There are some dear friends 
here who wish to see you. I want to tell them of 
my happiness, and would like to have you at my 
side to receive the good will and congratulations.” 

As he was about to draw her into his arms for 
one fond embrace, she shrank from him, and, like 
a child playing tag, she ran laughing, to join the 
visitors, followed by the Surgeon. 

Out in the shrubbery stood Henderson, having 
been joined by Pete, who said in a whispered voice, 
‘‘I done it. Sergeant, and when I seen Surgeon 
Fairfax come where Miss Freda was, I had to scoot; 
but I gave her the note, and I know she read it, 
’cause she seemed to feel glad. Now, you wait right 
here and Fll run back to the house; the General 
may want me. Make yourself miserable ’till I 
come back” — and away he went. 

Again left alone. Sergeant Henderson took from 
his pocket a false beard, remarking to himself, 
‘‘If any of the watchmen or gardeners should see 
me they will not know who I am.” Little did he 
dream, while seated there alone with his own 
thoughts, that he was discovered. 

There he sat, dreaming dreams of the impossible 
happiness, picturing in his mind far-off Cuba, a 
hospital tent, an angel face bending over his pros- 
trate form, bathing his heated brow, whispering 
soft words of sympathy, imploring him to be brave. 
Will I see her again? Surely she would not let me 
go without sa3dng a fond good-bye. This was all 
he asked and why he wrote these words: “My dear 
Miss Waters, I soon leave for the Philippines, and 
before going I want to again thank you for your 
past kindness to me. I have refrained from doing 
this rash act for some time. I know you will forgive 


43 


me for becoming a slave to my weakness; but 
there is one heart wish that I crave; I must see 
you and say good-bye before I go. I fear not death. 
I could die happy after seeing the woman whose 
soul has made a slave of me. Grant me this one 
wish. I will wait in the shrubbery for you or your 
answer. Devotedly yours, Henderson.” 

This was the missive entrusted to the care of 
Pete for its safe deliverance, and this important 
message was what she was reading when surprised 
by the Surgeon. This crumpled note was hidden 
in the folds of her dress, next to her heart. It was 
no wonder that she was perplexed as to what to 
do or say when ushered in where the guests were 
assembled, and she stood as though sentenced to 
be hung, awaiting the will of the executioner. 

‘‘Friends, Miss Freda Waters, the playmate 
of my youth, has consented to be my promised 
wife; I crave your blessings.” 

There she stood , in all the loveliness of her youth, 
yet with a dark, guilty conscience, accepting the 
good will of her friends. 

‘‘Let us drink to the health of the future Surgeon 
and Mrs. Fairfax” was the toast tendered by 
General Fimston. Again and again the happiness 
of the pair was drank by the friends. Here the 
gods of happiness reigned; while near by, out in 
the shrubbery, a bitter personal encounter was 
being waged. Henderson, having been discovered 
by the gardener, attempted to hide. 'Passing in 
and out among the trees, closely followed by his 
pursuer, he was about to make his escape, when 
fired on by the gardener. The shot attracted the 
attention of the mounted officers on the road, and 
they soon had Henderson under control. Being 
disguised he did not resist arrest. 

‘‘We found him hiding in the shrubbery” was 
the answer given to the inquiry of “What has he 
done?” 


44 


Henderson, believing that silence was golden, 
refused to state who he was or why he was there. 

“We will take him to the house and let the family 
look him over; they can make the charge.” 

Fitting the action to the word, Henderson was 
brought to the house. The little family gathering 
was ruthlessly interrupted. 

“We found this man hiding in the shrubbery, 
preparing to break into your house,” said the 
gardener, when the prisoner was led before the 
guests. “In calling upon him to surrender, he 
attempted to escape. I fired at him; closed in on 
him, and after a pretty hard struggle we brought 
him here.” A look of consternation was pictured 
on the culprit’s fac6, and, under that disguise, his 
guilt was quite apparent. 

“Why should you harm us? Who are you?” 
Mrs. Fairfax asked. But before an answer could 
be returned, the Surgeon rushed toward Henderson 
as if about to do him bodily harm. 

“Stop, Surgeon! Wait!” said General Funston. 
‘‘Let me talk with the prisoner.” 

“This is no time to talk,” replied the Surgeon. 
“This black dog secrets himself in the shrubbery 
of our home, there to wait the coming of darkness; 
to force himself into the house, to rob, and perhaps 
murder. He should be shot at once, and I’ll see to 
it that Judge Lynch shall take full charge of this 
black villian.” 

Freda, regaining her composure, scanned the 
prisoner carefully for some sign of recognition, and, 
in her natural, quiet manner, she implored, “For- 
give him, mother! He has done no harm. In honor 
of this day we shall forgive him.” 

General Funston, noticing the broad shoulders 
of this military man, said, “I will talk with him,” 
and, going toward Henderson, he tore the mask 
from his face, and there stood a hero of numberless 
battles, dethroned and disgraced, branded as a 


45 


burglar. With a look of utter dejection, unable 
to say one word in his defence, he awaited the 
action of that impromptu court, accepting a decree 
of those judges.. 

With a superhuman effort Freda regained her 
self control. Inspired by that bitter personal hatred 
for Henderson, Smgeon Fairfax again attempted 
to draw his revolver. Colonel Roswell stepped 
between, and in a commanding voice said, “One 
moment, Fairfax, he may be a burglar and he may 
be guilty of an attempted crime, but the laws of 
the land must be respected; he must have a fair 
trial . Henderson , what does this mean ? ’ ’ 

“It means that I have been drinking and without 
funds, and wanted money. I am guilty of all you 
say. Come officers, do your duty and take me 
away.” 

As the officers were about to leave with the 
prisoner Freda rushed toward her mother, throwing 
herself at her feet, “Mrs. Fairfax, when a child I 
was brought to you and from then I have known 
no other love but yours. All that I have received 
you gave me; all that I have is yours; I am your 
slave, body and soul. There is no wish that I ever 
craved that you, in the kindness of your heart, 
ever refused, and I have never asked for an3rthing, 
only that which my heart craved. I now pray to 
you the prayer that we will make before the judg- 
ment seat of Him who will judge us as we have 
judged those who have sinned against us to release 
this man, and you will be granting me the wish of 
my life.” 

Before she could be restrained Freda fell fainting 
at the feet of Mrs. Fairfax. Rushing to her side. 
Colonel Roswell tenderly raised the fainting girl, 
and giving her into the care of Quito, who assisted 
her mistress to her room, he turned sharply to the 
Surgeon, and, in a soft but commanding tone, said, 
“Surgeon Fairfax, this man whom you accuse, is 


46 


not the man who would commit a crime, and when 
I look back to the time when I was surrounded by 
the enemy and my comrades were shot from my 
side, there I saw, out from the smoke of battle, 
this man fighting his way towards me. When hope 
seemed almost gone, I saw the whiteness of his 
teeth and heard his strong, brave voice cry, ‘Hold 
your own. Colonel, we’re coming.’ They came, 
and that day will never be forgotten. I trust that, 
in the memory of those days, you will forgive and 
release him. Henderson, I am sorry, and I shall 
personally see that mercy is shown you, though 
you may be guilty.” _ 

Fairfax, about to lose an opportunity for revenge, 
with his hot Southern blood boiling to a fever pitch, 
shouted, “It shall not be! I, the master of this 
house, command that this self-confessed criminal 
be punished. He did not deny it; why should 
mercy be shown? He is guilty, and I shall see to 
it that he’ll never cross my path again”; and, with 
a wave of command, Henderson was taken away. 

Thus the gods of fate played their all-important 
role to blight the lives of those who so short a time 
ago were blessed by the gods of love. 


47 


CHAPTER V 


A mind that’s truly brave 
Stands despising 
Storms arising, 

And can’t be made a slave. 

In the District of Columbia criminal cases are 
handled by agents of the National Government. 
The proceedings and the course pursued by the 
prosecutor are, in a measure, the same as used by 
the prosecutor of the states or counties. The charge 
of burglary made against a United States soldier, 
one whose past military record had brought him 
prominently before the higher officials of the govern- 
ment, was most unusual. The newspapers, in 
glaring headlines, described the crime, and from a 
prejudicial viewpoint, laid great stress on the con- 
fession made by the culprit. The day of the trial 
brought to court men of every race, creed, and 
position. 

Henderson, declining all legal aid, places his 
friends, Colonel Roswell and General Funston, in 
an embarrassing position. He had declined all 
proffered offers of assistance, saying, “They caught 
me with the goods! Why should I squeal? I will 
take my medicine like a man.’’ And, vdthin the 
silence of his own melancholy thoughts, he was 
proud to think he was making a sacrifice that would 
protect the fair and untarnished name of the woman 
who was all and all to him. He would willingly 
suffer the ignominy of his own future that no harm 
might befall her. Thus we see that the position 
of his friends, who would give their lives for his 
freedom, was most arduous. When visited in his 
cell by Colonel Roswell, Henderson feigned illness, 


48 


that he would not be subjected to examination 
by his friend, which might lead him to miscarry 
his own set plan. 

“Henderson, a word with you! You must tell 
me the truth! You are charged with a grave felony, 
and you are an honored member of the military 
family of this great country. If you go down into 
disgrace, you’ll blemish the character of your com- 
rades; you will darken the prospects of your race, 
and bring sorrow and pain to those who love and 
honor you. I know, and you know, that you are 
not guilty. It is your duty, no matter whom you 
wound, to tell the truth.’’ 

“Colonel, I thank you. You have known me 
for some time, but you only knew the good that was 
in me, nothing more. I have confessed; what more 
is there to do? The law must take its course. You 
have been kind to me and I appreciate your noble 
sacrifice. I am decided upon the course which I 
will take, and I will not change. I trust you will 
think kindly of me for what I once was, and not 
what I am to-day.’’ 

Colonel Roswell, for the first time in his career 
as a soldier, lost his manly composure, and wept 
like a child; and, as he left that cell, he swore that 
in spite of all, Henderson would never serve one 
day for the offence charged against him. 

* * * Hs 

“Sergeant Henderson, to the bar!’’ 

Silence reigned in that crowded court of justice. 
The heavy breathing of those seated was most 
oppressive. A tall, dark manly form was brought 
forth. As the clerk read the charge and the learned 
judge asked, “How does the prisoner plead?’’ 
Henderson, with a strong, manly voice, was about 
to speak when a young woman, dressed in black 
with a veil covering her beautiful face, arose, and, 
with both hands outward stretched toward the 
prisoner as if to mutely say, ‘I will save you,’ said: 

49 


“Stop! This must not be!” and, as if carried away 
by the excitement of the moment, she swooned. 

Tender hands assisted her to the anteroom of 
the court, and, when order was again restored, 
there was a hurried consultation between attorneys 
on both sides and Colonel Roswell. At its con- 
clusion the prosecutor for the government arose 
and addressed the court saying, “Judge, your honor! 
We ask that the proceedings in this case be post- 
poned for future investigation. There are some 
perplexing facts to be brought out, and I ask you 
to adjourn these proceedings, and the prisoner 
admitted to bail.” 

Thus we find, even though we sometimes are 
willing to make grave sacrifices for others, right 
will triumph over might. Henderson was released 
under bonds, reported to his commander, and it 
was not very long before he was enroute with his 
regiment to new fields of military activity. 

The outburst of Freda in the crowded court 
room was credited to her sentimental nature, and 
it was said that she could not even bear to think 
that misfortune would come to any one. Fairfax, 
chagrined at the unexpected ending, philosophically 
accepted fate’s decree. Roswell, elated at the out- 
come, knowing full well the innocence of Henderson, 
and the scandal averted, congratulated himself 
upon the success. 

There was not a word spoken between Freda, 
Surgeon Fairfax, and Mrs. Fairfax on their return 
from the trial, and as the big touring car drew near 
the gates of Rosewood, only the sudden stopping 
of the machine aroused them from their reverie. 
After assisting Freda to alight the Surgeon seem^ed 
lost within his own thoughts. 

“Is it true that this woman, whom I love and 
who has promised to share my future, could be in 
a conspiracy with this black Othello? Could she 
be as Desdamona, who gave up wealth and social 

50 


position? No! It can not be! He has bewitched 
her and the power he has exercised over her can 
only be obliterated by death; for as long as he lives 
she will never cease to think of him.” From that 
moment a determined resolution was made by 
Fairfax, strengthened by that deep Southern 
hatred, to remove, once and forever, the only 
barrier between him and the woman he loves. 

After the evening meal Freda retired to her own 
apartments. Throwing herself prostrate upon her 
bed, gave way to her womanly impulses, and wept. 

Mrs. Fairfax was perplexed, and said to her son: 
“Fm glad it is over. Why Henderson should come 
here in the manner in which he did is a mystery 
to me. My son, what do you think? ” 

Surgeon Fairfax decided to confide in his mother 
all he knew relative to Henderson and Freda. He 
recited to her the charge of the Ninth Cavalry on 
San Juan Hill, the rescue of Colonel Roswell, and the 
wounding of Henderson; the story told by Roswell 
of the bravery displayed by Henderson; how 
Freda, being in charge of Henderson, heard it all, 
and that they were often seen together after he was 
able to be about. 

This story was a revelation to Mrs. Fairfax, but, 
with a mother’s deep love for Freda, she permitted 
herself not to think ill of her foster child, and 
laughingly remarked, “Oh, you great big baby! 
Could you be jealous of this impossible rival? You 
know that Freda loves you or she would never have 
promised to be your wife; so let’s take an optimistic 
view of the situation and forget the disagreeable 
happenings of so short time ago. Come, my son! 
You can’t afford to be morose. We must all be 
happy for our future is of the brightest possibilities.” 

But what had the future in store for this pas- 
sionate lover ? Who could foresee ? Who could 
foretell the impending climax? Our future and our 
destiny are shaped by the guidance of Providence. 

51 


We have no alternative, only to accept the allotment 
granted us. We may plan and look forward to a 
time when we may achieve som^e great undertaking. 
In love, as well as in other pursuits, we are but an 
instrument in the hands of Him who controls the 
earth, the sky, and the seas. With His mighty 
power He controls the storms in its rage of destruc- 
tion, saving those of His will. We know not why, 
and there is no appeal, only to accept the divine 
decree. 

Having taken possession of the Philippines the 
United States issued a call for nurses, which was 
readily responded to by the Red Cross and many 
other societies. Freda was one of the first to answer 
the call, giving, as an excuse, that she would submit 
to the call of her heart in administering to the 
wounded. Finding entreaties of no avail Mrs. 
Fairfax, with a true motherly spirit, gave Freda 
her blessing, with this proviso — that Surgeon 
Fairfax would again resume his duties in the army 
that he could be near to shield his promised bride. 

Abroad the transport “America,” speeding ten 
thousand miles away from home and loved ones, 
to take up the arduous labors of doctor and nurse 
for the glory of the Stars and Stripes, were Freda 
and Sergeant Fairfax. Anxious hearts wished them 
“Bon Voyage,” and prayed that God would care 
for and return them to those who loved them. It 
was a sad day when Mrs. Fairfax returned to 
Rosewood. What was wealth? What was social 
position? What was this world to her when all 
that she had was separated from her? But she was 
comforted by this thought that they would soon 
return with new laurels, and nothing then could 
take them away again. This noble woman, who 
had done so much for charity and assisted the 
unfortunate, sat and sighed when she thought of 
that passage of scripture which reads: “The sins 
of the fathers shall be visited upon the children 

52 


unto the third and fourth generations of them that 
hate Me.” These distressing thoughts made her 
ask herself this question: “Must I suffer the sins 
of m.y father?” She knelt and prayed that she 
would be one of the last verse which reads : “I will 
show mercy unto thousands of them that love Me 
and keep My commandments.” These comforting 
thoughts had a tendency to reassure her that her 
life was of such that would bring reward only to 
the faithful. 

Like a huge swan rode the transport “America” 
over the raging sea. She was one of the products 
of American genius, and majestically buffeted the 
angry waves in mute defiance. On board were 
hearts thrilled with patriotism, soldiers, and sea- 
men; each man eager to reach the scene of action, 
so that he may add one more star to his individual 
crown. In company with those rough and deter- 
mined sons of liberty were a number of soft, soothing 
hearts, whose interest was to bring a God-like 
influence over their companions, and to render aid 
in times when only the physical power gives way. 
It is then that all men look to the soft hand of 
a woman as a child looks to the caresses of its 
mother. 

Among that number of living angels was Freda, 
clad in a delicate blue with an emblem of the Red 
Cross upon her arm. The “America,” after a few 
days out from port, with her machinery working 
harmoniously and all well on board, seemed to be 
proud of her burden, and, coming proudly out from 
a few storms, rested quietly on the smooth sea. 
It seemed as if she was guided by an unseen hand 
and, although piloted by experienced and trained 
masters, the All-seeing Eye looked down and shaped 
the successful course. 

To break the monotony of time, diverse sources 
of amusement were proposed, and among the many 
was a musicale to be given in the salon, and on the 

53 


program was the name of Freda, who had volun- 
teered to render two vocal selections. After the 
evening meal, the band played the opening number, 
a medley comprising patriotic airs ; concluding 
with “My Country, ’Tis of Thee.” All present 
arose, joining in the chorus. Near the last. Miss 
Freda Waters was introduced, and she chose for 
her selection that old inspiring song, “Just a Song 
at Twilight,” and in the course of its rendition, her 
thoughts seemed to leave those who surroimded 
her, to join with those who were far away, and 
when she came to the part of the song which 
says: 

''Though my heart heat weary, 

Sad the day and long'' 

a tear escaped from her eye, and she pictured a 
tall, dark military form standing in the shrubbery, 
awaiting a fond good bye. 

The song ended, and amid deafening applause* 
she was asked to sing again. Awakening from her 
lethargy, and realizing that she was only an instru- 
ment of pleasure for those aboard, she responded, 
singing, “Coming Thro’ the Rye.” The lightness 
of the character of this vocal effort seemed to lift 
her heart from a load of depression. She was soon 
one of the happy throng and the center of attraction. 
Surgeon Fairfax seemed a little piqued at the 
attention shown her and, instead of feeling proud 
of her accomplishments, he sulked in an envious 
mood that brought forth much criticism and words 
of derision. “Why, the Surgeon’s jealous! See 
how cross he looks ! I feel sorry for the poor fellow ! ’ ’ 
and other taunting remarks were passed. 

Freda, noticing the attitude of the Surgeon 
towards his comrades, went to him and looked 
tenderly into his eyes, saying, “Come, Surgeon, 
you may take me on deck, where I can enjoy the 
night’s cooling breeze, and we will talk of home.” 


54 


These words had a comforting effect. He gallantly 
gave Freda his arm, and they were soon strolling the 
com.panion deck. 

After the program was completed, dancing was 
indulged in until the wee hours of the morning. 
Here we find, out on the boisterous billows, life in 
all its tending glory, beaming and smiling on hearts 
far from home, in the care of His infinite power. 
Quietness reigned supreme. Only those on watch 
were awake to guard against any possible harm 
that may arise ; and the ship rolled on. 

“Land A ’Hoy!” was the welcom.e cry one pleasant 
morning, when, far out in the distant horizon, a 
dark, narrow strip was observed by the man on 
watch, as the bow of the “America ” forged forward, 
seeming ever eager to decrease the longitude that 
would bring her nearer to port. The pleasure that 
had surmounted miany faces gave way to one of 
serious thoughts of what the future would bring 
forth. Orders were given by the officers in charge 
to prepare for landing, and soon this craft, bearing 
the sons and daughters of liberty, was at anchor. 

The welcome demonstration to the “America” 
by the seacraft lying in harbor gave a new impetus 
to the ambition of those on board. The shrieks 
of the smaller craft, and the booming of cannon 
of the old sea-fighters, seemed to say to the “Amer- 
ica,” “We are glad that you have come.” Soon 
tug boats and lighters ran alongside and the task 
of unloading was begun. A launch, bearing the 
crest U. S. N. was one of the first to reach the 
transport. Important cablegrams and cipher mes- 
sages were given to the commanders and officers. 
They contained orders from Washington as to the 
plans laid out by the commander of the army and 
navy. The health officers, giving a clean bill, 
permitted soldiers to leave ship. The nurses were 
taken ashore and proceeded to the legation at 
Manila. All seemed pleased to be again on terra 


55 


lirma. But Oh, how different from home, and what 
work would be expected of this large family! It 
was but a short time when a separation was effected 
by the commander in charge. Detachments were 
sent hither to one place or another; some to guard 
the roads leading to the Capitol; others, the com- 
missary, and some were sent on scouting expedi- 
tions. In the harbor of Manila lay several trans- 
ports which had preceded the “America.” On 
board of one of these was Sergeant Henderson, in 
comipany with his famous Ninth and Tenth Caval- 
ries. He had been ashore for some time and knew 
nothing of the coming of his soul’s ideal and his 
arch enemy. Surgeon Fairfax. Will he never escape 
him? Will it bring him happiness to learn that, 
although he will soon see her, yet he will be hounded 
like a criminal. The memory of that fateful day 
clings ever to him. The note, the shrubbery, the 
discovery, the accusation, the trial and his release, 
were like a specter, ever ready to haunt his dreams 
and to appear at all times when life seemed bright. 
It is thus the will of fate, that no matter where we 
are, or where we go, its ever-powerful influences 
are keenly felt by us. How to escape we know not; 
only the power of faith brings us peace. In the 
seclusion of our thoughts, when night overshadows 
the earth, and we are alone with only our con- 
science, it is then we must bow our heads in earnest 
supplication to Him who makes all things right, 
that we may receive blessings for noble deeds and 
kind acts to all mankind. 

♦ * * * 

“Henderson, the transport “America” is in the 
harbor and among the many passengers are Surgeon 
Fairfax and his foster-sister, Freda.” This was the 
surprising news that greeted Henderson when he 
returned to headquarters, by his commander-in- 
chief. A rush of blood to the temples, followed 
by rapid palpitating heart beats, took immediate 

56 


possession of the almost perfect physical man. 
Never before in his memory had this feeling of awe 
taken control of him. There was a presentment 
of grave forebodings. There are times in our lives, 
when apprised by an enemy, we are able to place 
ourselves on guard, as a panther crouches for an 
attack when suddenly confronted by an approaching 
foe. This intelligence, perceived by Henderson, 
had an opposite effect, and he knew not what to 
do, what to say, or how to act. The dictates of 
his heart craved for a meeting with Freda, but the 
knowledge in satisfying his heart’s desire would 
only incite acts of hostile intent by the Surgeon. 
In open conflict he had no fear of him or any other 
man, but to harm him would wound her; so after 
the temporary feeling had worn off, he resolved, 
that from that moment he would cease to see her, 
thereby avoiding all unpleasantness. He looked 
his commander straight in the face, saying, “General, 
it is a pleasure to know that our friends will be near 
us again, but I trust our time will be short in these 
climes. While here you may assign me to foreign 
duty if you like ; I would much prefer it. ” 

The General honored Henderson, and the deep 
admiration he had for this black hero was of such 
that he would lay down his life to serve him. He 
thoroughly knew the situation and the innermost 
thought of the Sergeant. He pitied him, and firmly 
grasping his hand, he said, “Henderson, I am your 
friend, and I charge you to be on your guard at all 
times and to be guided solely by your conscience. 
I have no doubt as to your pure and good intentions, 
and I trust you will ever be able to do what is right 
in the sight of God and man. We have some un- 
pleasant tasks to perform and I will need you. 
After receiving reports as to the whereabouts of the 
enemy we will begin to straighten things out here 
without much loss of life and time. You may return 
to your detachment and there await my orders.” 

57 


It was during this period that scouting parties, 
returning to headquarters, reported the many bands 
of guerrillas, who menaced the lives of the outpost 
and committed numerous depredations against life 
and property. The destruction of these bands of 
marauders was a task to be attempted by General 
Funston and his men. Many wealthy men had dis- 
appeared and were being held for ransom. It was 
even unsafe for a young lady to be on the streets of 
Manila without being properly guarded. Numerous 
detachments had been sent against these cowardly 
assassins, but their knowledge of the country gave 
them ample protection. Many a brave soldier was 
shot from ambush without even a chance to fire in 
return. In the city of Manila, the capital, where the 
United States had chosen the headquarters for their 
army, was found, located at this place, a modemly- 
equipped hospital, with its corps of efficient nurses 
and doctors under the supervision of Surgeon Fairfax. 

On one pleasant afternoon a gala fete, in honor 
of General Funston’s birthday, was celebrated. 
Flags and bunting were draped on all buildings 
in honor of the occasion. The bands from the 
various warships lying in harbor were present. 
An extensive program was arranged, including 
daring horsemanship, a drill, rifle contest, wrestling, 
fencing, boxing, and many other athletic exercises 
for which suitable prizes would be awarded to the 
successful contestants. The hour arrived; the 
guests assembled; even the wounded were brought 
from the hospital in their invalid chairs. The drill 
presented a most spectacular sight. The difficult 
riding of the cavalry rivaled the feats of the Russian 
Cossacks. The Greeian-Roman bouts of wrestling 
demonstrated to the onlookers that there were men 
among them who had the brawn of the ancient 
gladiators. The boxing bouts were of the most 
spirited and scientific character. In all, the day 
was spent in a glorious burst of patriotic exhibitions. 

58 


Amid the glow and splendor and the pleasant 
exchanges of the day there were some who could 
not share the pleasures of their comrades. The men 
on guard at the outpost, the scouting parties, and 
the many detachments sent into the interior, took 
from that fete many brave men who could have 
proven their worth as aspiring athletes. Among 
that number that had other duties to perform was 
Sergeant Henderson, who was in charge of a de- 
tachment to round up the m^arauding guerrillas. 
He had been gone for some time and no word had 
been received from him. A feeling of apprehension 
for his safety was felt by his commanders. After 
the day was well spent in pleasures befitting the 
occasion, a grand ball at the legation being the 
climax, and which was in the height of gaiety, 
Henderson returned. A hurried consultation be- 
tween him and the General of the condition of 
affairs was held, and a new plan of action was 
inaugurated. At this time soldiers brought to the 
hospital a wounded comrade. While bending over 
him they heard him say, “Send help at once ! A band 
of Filipino bandits have captured some of our men.” 
Before further information could be gotten from this 
wounded soldier he lapsed into unconsciousness. 

“Henderson,” said the General, “I must have 
reliable and trustworthy men to go in pursuit of 
those devils. Will you accept this commission? 
It is beset with many dangers and requires a cool 
and level head. Select from your number only 
those whom you can rely upon in the face of danger. 
When will you start ? ” 

“At once,” replied Henderson. 

Nearby, unnoticed and unobserved, stood Surgeon 
Fairfax. They little dreamed that this man who 
had sworn to be true to his flag and country would 
plot the destruction of a brave comrade. The 
feeling of hatred was so great that the desecration 
of the honor of his country was a small matter to 

59 


him. After the conference the General returned 
to the revelers, and the legation was soon deserted. 

When all was quiet and the city asleep, forms 
of five men were seen in the dim moonlight, skulking 
in and about the legation. Anyone familiar with 
those forms could readily see that they belonged 
to a band that meant no good to those sleeping 
citizens. There was one who did see them. Surgeon 
Fairfax saw them while on an unfriendly mission, 
and he soon recognized the leader whom he well knew. 
Fairfax, alert, followed the leader, who was none 
other than Pinto. After several detours, Fairfax 
came upon him. Pinto, feeling secure that he was 
unrecognized, was about to pass when a rough hand 
was placed on his shoulder, and he found himself 
looking into the muzzle of a revolver held by Fairfax. 

“Throw up your hands, Pinto! I know you. 
What are you here for? You are here for no good 
purpose. How did you manage to evade the out- 
post? Speak low; for if you make one cry I will 
send a bullet crashing through your brain.” 

Pinto, surprised, stood as commanded. “Me 
mean no harm.” 

“You lie! Now listen! I know who you are. 
I know what you have come to do. You have come 
here to rob the legation and, perhaps, murder. 
Come with me; I have something to say to you.” 

And keeping his captive under cover he marched 
him to a secluded spot. Far away from the sounds 
of any of the guards, he lowered his revolver and 
said: “Pinto, I have a job on hand, and if you 
help me I will help you. There is a man whom I 
want to put out of the way. If you will do this I 
will let you go and give you one thousand dollars 
after you have done this work.” 

“ Me do it, Surgeon,” said Pinto. 

“There are soldiers sent to bring you in, and 
they have gone down by the four forks. You will 
find them at the bridge. They are in charge of a 

60 


man named Henderson. Now, if you will guide 
me to the place, one thousand dollars is yours. Will 
you do it? He has an hour’s start of us, but as 
you know the road, we can overtake him.” 

‘‘Me do it ! Me do it ! 

In the gleam of the moonlight these two arch 
conspirators bonded themselves for the death of an 
innocent hero, whose whole thought was to do his 
duty for the glory of his country. Pinto was allowed 
to go and give orders to his companions, and in a 
little while two figures were seen stealthily evading 
the guards, and were soon out on the highroads. 

Henderson, with a small detachment of men, 
after reaching the four forks, gave orders to separate; 
each man taking a different course, while he, him- 
self, stood near the bridge. In the stillness of the 
night this brave Othello stood there; his thoughts 
seemed to drift back to many incidents of his 
past life, and in that far-off wilds he saw a face 
that smiled, inspiring him with confidence to do 
his duty as his conscience directed. He pictured 
a hospital tent and a sleeping woman, resting in 
repose after a strenuous day, dreaming of nothing 
but her duty toward mankind. In the deep stillness 
of the night he prayed to God that no harm would 
befall her. While thus employed with his thoughts 
he heard a sound, and before he realized, he stood 
face to face with Surgeon Fairfax, disguised as a 
Filipino. They sprang at each other, and were 
soon in a deathlike struggle. Taken unawares, 
Henderson was unable to draw his revolver. Fairfax 
attempted to pierce Henderson with his sword, 
but discovered that it was no easy task. He was 
soon joined by another, whom he recognized as 
Pinto. Henderson, being of an athletic build, was 
almost a match for both of them, and after wrenching 
the sword from Fairfax’s hand, he was able to draw 
his revolver and fire. The shot was heard by some 
of the men, and fearing capture they escaped. 


61 


Before accompanying Pinto on his dangerous 
mission, Fairfax assumed a disguise, which in his 
mind would assist him in carrying out his nefarious 
project. After his escape from Henderson he was 
forced to leave his sword behind. He little thought 
Henderson recognized him, but the knowledge 
that Henderson had his sword with his name 
engraved upon the blade, gave him foreboding 
thoughts of impending danger. How to establish 
an alibi he did not know. After arriving at the 
legation, he returned to his apartments, and from 
all appearances was Surgeon Fairfax again. 

Henderson, being joined by his comrades, who, 
hearing the report, gave orders for a courier to 
return to the legation. He fully recognized his 
assailant as Freda’s foster brother; then, looking 
at the sword, his suspicions were confirmed. 

“What shall I do? If I denounce this man as a 
traitor, it will break her heart. To remain silent 
is a gross neglect of duty. The General shall know ! ” 

With this determined thought he, too, returned 
to the legation. Having been preceded by the 
courier, who, in a measure, exaggerated the facts 
as to the encounter, when Henderson arrived he 
was met by the General and other members of the 
staff. 

Freda, hearing of the skirmish in which Henderson 
was personally engaged, was the first to greet him 
with, ‘ ‘ Are you hurt ? ’ ’ 

The General heard the report of Henderson, in 
which he told of his meeting with Pinto. Henderson, 
looking into the face of Freda, decided to remain 
silent as to his real assailant, and, turning, said, 
“General, there is a traitor among us. You shall 
know who it is later; but before he answers to 
Uncle Sam, I swear by the gods, he shall answer 
to me.’’ 


62 


CHAPTER VI 


From the dark ages of the night ! 

Men of brawn, men of might, 

Come hence to fight for right. 

— Gilmore 

At the mouth of the James River, in the State 
of Virginia, in the year 1619, a strange vessel dropped 
anchor opposite the little settlement of Jamestown. 
This ship carried twenty negro slaves and was the first 
slave ship to enter these shores; but history tells 
us that prior to this time slaves were sent to the 
West Indies as early as 1501. From the beginning, 
the advent of negroes into the United States as 
slaves, and their natural physical power, made 
them valuable assets to their masters to do hard 
work and suffer hardships. These qualities would 
naturally make him fit, if properly trained, to be 
a good soldier. 

Negro soldiers have fought in every war and 
have, at all times, proved their worth. In the War 
of 1812, they were conspicuous in the battles of 
New Orleans and Lake Erie. No race ever fought 
more earnestly to gain its freedom than in the Civil 
conflict. In the Revolutionary War the negro 
soldier did not fight, side by side, with his brother, 
but was scattered among the white soldiers, and 
at that time, history tells us, his sacrificing love 
for his comrades brought him into favor with his com- 
mander. It is well known that the first blow for 
freedom in the Revolutionary War was struck by 
Crispus Attucks, on the Boston Commons, and, 
as the first blow for freedom was from a negro, 
from that time natural love for country and home 
grew. From the War of Rebellion, April 12, 1863, 
the 54th Massachusetts Volunteers was raised and 


63 


recruited for service. They comprised the free 
negro from the Northern States. The first engage- 
ment in which the colored soldiers took part was 
the assault on Fort Hudson, La., May 27, 1863, 
made by the troops under General Banks. Although 
suffering heavy losses they fought with bulldog 
tenacity and determination. 

The assault on Fort Wagner by the 54th, the 
battle of Honey Hill, and other numerous engage- 
ments, taxed the true worth of these brave men. 
It was in the assault at Fort Wagner when General 
Shaw fell dead at the head of the negro regiment, 
and there mingled some of the best blood of New 
England with that of these black men, whom he 
had volunteered to lead in the fight for the freedom of 
their race. It was in the same battle that Sergeant 
William Carney of the 54th Massachusetts, though 
wounded in the head, shoulder, and in both legs, 
carried the national flag of his regiment across the 
open field, which separated him from safety, where 
he handed it over with these words, which made 
him famous, “Dey got me, boys, but de old flag 
neber touched de ground!” 

In the campaign, which resulted in the fall of 
Richmond, June 15, 1864, colored troops captured 
seven guns in front of Pittsburg, and on July 30th, 
they took part in the disastrous attack at the 
” Crater,” in which four thousand men were 
wounded, lost, or captured in the fruitless and 
hopeless assault. When General Weitzel took 
possession of Richmond on April 3, 1865, he was 
commander of a corp made up entirely of negro 
soldiers. It was a negro soldier who hauled down 
the Confederate flag, and it was negro soldiers 
who assisted in quenching the fires which had been 
started when the Confederates evacuated the city, 
thus saving the helpless citizens, who were left 
behind, much loss and suffering. 


64 


This illustrates to what extent the colored troops 
were called upon to maintain order in the confusion 
and anarchy which reigned at this time in the 
capital of the Confederacy. Two years before the 
same General Weitzel, who was in command of 
the negro troops and who at this time took posses- 
sion of Richmond, wrote to General Butler to be 
relieved of his command in Louisiana, because, 
as he said, he could not command negro regiments. 

The services which the negro troops performed 
in the Civil War, fighting for the freedom of their 
race, not only convinced the officers, who fought 
by their side, that the race deserved to be free, 
but it served to convince the great mass of people 
in the North that the negroes were fit for freedom. 
It did, perhaps, more than any other one thing to 
gain for them, as a result of the war, the passage 
of those amendments to the constitution which 
secured for the colored race the same rights in the 
United States that are granted to white men. 

THE TROOPERS OF THE NINTH 
U. S. CAVALRY 

Bards have told the ancient story how Horatio held 
the gate 

And preserved the Roman city as her chronicles 
relate. 

Men have wondered at the gallant charge of Eng- 
land’s Light Brigade, 

On Balaklava’s bloody height, by Tennyson por- 
trayed; 

But I will tell you of as brave a deed, a grander, 
nobler sight. 

Than Rome or Balaklava saw, a deed of courage 
bright. 

The halo of whose glory adds new luster to the 
charms 

That gild the World of Chivalry with valiant feats 
of arms. 


65 


On Colorado’s distant plains a small but gallant band 

Beleagured round by savages, had made a desperate 
stand. 

Outnumbered by four to one they bravely made 
dispute 

With those Cossacks of the Western World, the 
wily, vengeful Ute; 

And though comrades fell around them to be num- 
bered with the slain. 

And others writhed in agony upon the sodden plain. 

Yet the living never faltered, but with cheer and 
rifle crack 

Boldly flung the foe defiance o’er death’s beaten, 
bloody track. 

Small hope had they of succor, sure relief was far away, 

While between them and assistance scores on scores 
of foemen lay. 

They were hedged about on every side. Pent up in 
dread corral 

Of savage hearts implacable as demons hot from hell. 

But yet though belted round with death, their hearts 
were imdismayed. 

Though breathed upon by fiery breath no soldier’s 
cheek betrayed 

The fear that makes men cowards, but like Sparta’s 
deathless band. 

Each won a name and linked with fame the honor 
of his land. 

Full three score leagues and ten away from war’s red 
slaughter pen. 

With Dodge and Hughes of Saxon blood are eight 
and thirty men; 

Aye, men, as you shall truly own, though on each 
dusky face 

The God of Nature has affixed the seal of Afric’s race. 

And men whose deeds shall live in song, whose story 
shall be told 


66 


To generations yet to come, and be inscribed in gold 

Upon the page of history, to show how Saxon daring 

Once captured fame with Sons of Ham the great 
achievement sharing. 

The men are loitering about as soldiers do in camp. 

While up and down along their beats the watchful 
sentries tramp, 

The horses picketed close by, the blankets all out- 
spread, 

The tents and wagons, and the sky, serene and blue 
overhead. 

Make such a scene as painters love, a scene — “Halt, 
who comes there?” 

Rings out the challenge clear and sharp upon the 
crispy air. 

“A friend.” “Advance!” and at the word rides 
rapidly in view 

A haggard form who quick dismounts within the 
ranks of blue. 

“Your Captain!” “I am here,” said Dodge. 
“What message do you bring?” 

A word — enough — blow trumpets and make the 
echoes ring. 

Our comrades are surrounded, but, though foes are 
ten to one. 

We’ll ride them through or die like men, ere sets 
tomorrow’s sun. 

Then sounded “Boots and Saddles,” and the troopers 
gathered round. 

A moment more and every form was lifted from the 
ground. 

And upon their good steeds seated all were galloping 
away 

To the place where danger threatened and their 
comrades were at bay. 

Those eight and thirty troopers, with their leaders, 
true and tried, 


67 


Abandoning their baggage, wagons, tents and every- 
thing 

But their carbines and their sabers, and like birds 
upon the wing. 

From the golden light of morning until sunset’s 
latest glow 

Sailing swiftly o’er the prairie with their faces to the 
foe; 

Sailing swiftly on and steadily to reach the distant 
goal. 

With their hearts as true to duty as the needle to 
the pole. 

Morning came, and when the sun began to build his 
golden bridge 

O’er the moimtain tops and valleys, there looked 
down from lofty ridge 

Forty horsemen who had ridden all the livelong 
night in fear 

Lest they saw not on their coming what their vision 
made appear. 

Below them in the valley lay a scene to make men 
quail — 

A handful of their comrades, stormed upon by leaden 
hail. 

While from rocky bluff and canyon to the valley’s 
velvet turf 

Lay the shattered wrecks of heroes cast ashore by 
bloody siuf . 

“Sound a call upon your bugle,” then said Dodge, 
and at the word 

The trumpeter gave a blast that sleeping echoes 
stirred; 

And merrily the music swelled and floated far away. 

Bearing hope into the valley where the leaguered 
blue coats lay; 

Who, gazing eagerly aloft, first caught the brilliant 
gleaming 


68 


Of weapon bright, and then beheld the troopers 
Guidon streaming. 

Then cheerily they answered back a joyful, hopeful 
greeting, 

And bugle spoke to bugle, echoes clear the sotmds 
repeating. 

The heavens looked in wonder at the signal bugle 
call — 

Down rushed a living avalanche, while ring and pop 
of ball 

And foemen’s shouts and cries of pain resounded 
on the air. 

As the horsemen rode to glory through death’s 
intervening lair. 

As they cleft the savage phalanx, like a mighty 
wedge of steel, 

Leaving here and there a fragment crushed by valor’s 
iron heel. 


Then the heroes in the valley saw a gallant deed 
well done; 

Then the troopers of prairie fame immortal honors 
won. 

On that ride from hill to valley not a trooper held 
his seat. 

For of all their forty chargers never one had kept 
his feet. 

But had fallen ’neath the leaden blast that swept 
the fearful path 

Leading down from the summit through the dwelling 
place of wrath. 

Yet the God who rules the tempest warded off each 
fated stroke 

Till within the frail intrenchment they had planted 
sure relief. 

Building bulwarks of their bodies until succor came 
in chief. 


69 


Twine a wreath, O grateful Nation, to adorn each 
dusky brow; 

They have proved it true that chivalry is more than 
empty vow. 

Honor, too, their gallant leaders, who have scaled 
the heights of fame, 

And whose valor adds new luster to the Anglo- 
Saxon name. 

Tell the story to your children, O ye mothers of our 
land. 

To each their noble daring, tell them how a faithful 
band 

Won the royal right forevermore to wear the Knightly 
Crest 

When they carved their faith to glory through the 
Cossacks of the West. 

— By J. S. Slater. 


70 


CHAPTER VII 


Since the death of old Hezekiah Williams, the 
homestead had been maintained by a firm of solici- 
tors, who was in charge of the estate of Colonel 
Fairfax. It was said that the Colonel made pro- 
visions in his will for the maintenance of Amanda 
Williams, Hezekiah’s daughter. She had lived 
there for years with one or two near relatives who 
were companions. The farm was in a prosperous 
condition, and it was said that Hezekiah left his 
daughter well to do. Amanda Williams, the mis- 
tress of the farm, had been a sufferer for a long 
time, and it was said by knowing ones that she 
woiild not live very long. Any one who had talked 
with Amanda, saw, at a glance, that the sweet 
kindly face of this woman had a deep sorrow that 
no one had ever been able to fathom. 

One day there came to this ancient homestead a 
bright and cheerful woman, whose glowing eyes 
and kindly trait of character bespoke of one endowed 
with the spirit of Godliness. The coming of Freda 
to this home brought a ray of srmshine into the life 
of Amanda Williams. It was here that Freda first 
saw the light of day; the invalid mistress was her 
nurse. She had not seen her for years, as they had 
never met since Freda was five years old. Amanda 
always longed for her return, and she prayed God 
nightly that he would spare her life that she might 
again see the child whom she loved as her own. 
Realizing that the shades of time were about to be 
drawn on her eventful life, she wrote to Freda, 
praying her to come, so that she might once more 
see the child who was all and all to her. When 
Freda received the summons, in these words: 


71 


“My Dear Miss Waters: You, no doubt, have 
forgotten me, as you were but a babe when taken 
from me. I was your nurse and I am soon to leave 
this world. You will grant me this request; come 
to me, that I may die happy. 

From your old nurse, 

Amanda Williams.” 

She hastened to comply, and once more she was 
in the home of her youth. 

When Freda arrived the effect upon Amanda 
was miraculous; the pallor left her cheeks; the 
luster in her eyes turned to brightness, and the 
melancholy expression turned to laughter. The 
household commented upon the marvelous change 
of the invalid. Freda, too, seemed happy, for here 
in this humble home she found true love, and it 
seemed as if a severed link was again united. It 
was here, in this home, that the secret of her heritage 
was guarded. This woman, whom we know as 
Freda’s nurse, was the keeper of the knowledge 
that would clear a mystery of long standing, which 
meant all and all to the future happiness of this 
Red Cross nurse. 

Once, when alone with Amanda, Freda placed 
her arms around her neck and said to her, “Amanda, 
you can make me the happiest of women if you 
will tell me who I am. Who was my mother? 
Who was my father ? Amanda, you were my 
nurse, you know all. If you love me as you say 
you do you will grant me this wish. My life has 
been unhappy from early youth because of the 
knowledge that I was a stranger in a strange land.” 

Amanda, overcome by the entreaties of this fair 
girl, broke down and wept, and feebly she pleaded, 
“I cannot! I cannot! The voice of the dead for- 
bids . Forgive me ! Forgive me ! ’ ’ 

Freda, fearing a nervous breakdown, tenderly 
embraced her and said: “There,, there! I will wait 
until you are a little stronger.” 


72 


This interview was not very beneficial to the 
physical improvements of Amanda, and she was 
forced to remain in her room. 

* * * * 

On opening her mail one morning, Freda was 
surprised to receive a letter from Henderson, which 
read: 

“ My Dear Miss Waters : 

It has been some time since we have seen each 
other. After returning from the Philippines I 
found that you had preceded me. I have been 
in my home town since arriving in America . Through 
an indirect way I learned of your whereabouts, 
and, if you will pardon the liberty I take, I will 
ask that I may see you for a short time. It is of 
vital importance to the honor of your foster brother, 
and I feel that my duty as a soldier and loyalty 
to my country must be regarded above all else. 
You may assist him and myself; your decision 
in the matter will be final. I await your reply. 

Faithfully yours. 

Sergeant Henderson.” 

Carefully reading this strange missive, Freda 
resolved to send for Henderson, and she immediately 
wrote the following answer : 

“Sergeant Henderson, U. S. Army, 

Washington, D. C. 

My Dear Friend: 

Your ever welcome letter at hand. It is needless 
to say how pleased I was to be honored by a word 
from you. Here, in the home of my nurse, I will 
be pleased to have you call. I will make prepara- 
tions for your coming, and any assistance that I 
may render you or my foster brother, I beg you 
to command. 

Yours truly, 

Freda Waters.” 

P. S. — I anxiously await your arrival. 

73 


It was but a short time after the receipt of this 
letter that Henderson arrived. The meeting between 
the two was very cordial, and incidents leading 
up to the present time were discussed. Freda stated 
that after she returned from the Philippines life 
in the home of her foster parent was not very 
pleasant, and she told Henderson of a stormy scene 
between the Surgeon and herself. She also stated 
that at that time she received word from Amanda, 
and, knowing that she knew the secret of her herit- 
age, she hastened there. 

“Do they know who this woman is? Will they 
not attempt to reclaim you? Do you fear the 
Surgeon?” asked Henderson. 

“I do; and Pm glad that you are here, for I feel 
safe when under your protection,” answered Freda. 

“And well you may, for I hold here the evidence 
against your foster brother, charging him with 
treason, and when presented to proper authorities, 
he will be court-martialed, and made to suffer for 
his crimes,” and Henderson then related to Freda 
all that had happened on that eventful night when 
he was attacked by Fairfax and Pinto. The struggle 
in the dark; the capture of the sword with the 
owner’s name engraved on the blade; the return 
to the legation; his silence for her sake, and at last 
his return to the United States. 

The narrative deeply moved Freda, and she 
begged him to spare the Surgeon for his mother’s 
sake, sa3dng that she had released him of his promise 
as her affianced husband, and that her future life 
would be devoted to the nursing back to health 
one who was all and all to her. She had misgivings 
for the future, and she told Henderson that she had 
written to General Funston, who had taken such a 
fatherly interest in her, asking him to come and 
help her clear the mystery of her early youth. 

“You will not go. Sergeant, until the General 
comes?” asked Freda. 


74 


“No, I will guard you as I would guard my own 
life until I know you are in safe hands. I will always 
be near to serve you,” answered Henderson. 

Very soon the arrival of General Funston was 
announced and the little hiunble home represented 
a military barracks. 

Amanda seemed to improve with the arrival of 
the new guest, and she laughingly remarked that 
the soldiers had taken possession of her home, but 
she was a willing prisoner with Freda on guard. 

General Funston, having taken a personal interest 
in Freda’s welfare, and knowing of the will of the 
late Colonel Fairfax, decided to acquaint Freda 
with all the facts connected with the same. After 
supper had been served the General called Freda 
to one side and said, “I have something to say that 
will interest you. Do you want all to hear ? ” 

“General, I’m here to clear up a distressing 
mystery associated with my past life, and any 
information you may volunteer, will be greatly 
appreciated. Do let us all hear your story” said 
Freda. 

“All right.” Then turning to Henderson the 
General said, “Well, you’re here. Sergeant? I’m 
glad to see you here. I learned that Fairfax was 
the man who joined Pinto, the bandit, to rob the 
legation, and that he attempted to murder you 
at the forks, when you led your men against his 
band of bandits. Now, hear me! From what I 
can learn Colonel Fairfax, father of the Surgeon, 
and foster-father of Freda, left a will in which he 
bequeathed ten thousand dollars to Freda when 
she became of age. As guardian of Freda Mrs. 
Fairfax has failed to turn over to Freda the amount 
left by the deceased Colonel. The interest on that 
amount gives her enough money to use as long as 
she lives. It was the object of the mother for 
Surgeon Fairfax to marry Freda, which would keep 
the fortune in the Fairfax family.” 

75 


Freda, with a surprised look, said: “Can this be 
true? I care not for the money. All I ask is to be 
allowed to remain in peace to care for this dear old 
soul, who is all and all to me. I have no claim upon 
the Fairfax fortunes, so why should the Colonel 
leave me an)rthing? I was nothing to him. It was 
only through the sympathy of his dear heart that 
I was adopted.” 

Amanda sat as one stunned. 

The General, thinking this was the opportune 
time to assist Freda in clearing the mystery, said: 
“Mrs. Williams, you will pardon me for taking 
this liberty in asking you a few impertinent ques- 
tions; I assure you that it is no degree of impro- 
priety, and you may answer or refuse at your dis- 
cretion. This girl, Freda, whom we all love, has 
made a deep impression upon my life. Her noble 
sacrifice to duty, her tender, loving nature and 
melancholy reserve, has inspired me with the 
thought of assisting her in clearing the mystery 
of her life. That one wish is her daily thought 
and nightly dream. You, alone, hold the key as 
to who she is, and who are her rightful parents.” 

“I cannot! I cannot! The voice of the dead 
restrains me. Oh, that I could speak ! It would not 
make those happy who knew, for the curse of Cain 
would haunt them as long as they lived. Freda, 
my child, when a babe you nursed at my breast; 
you loved me then ; you love me now ; I am happy, 
too, for you are with me. When I die, I die with the 
thought that you are happy. Now promise me, 
no matter what ever comes, you will not cease to 
love me, even though you may learn the truth. 
O Lord, my life struggles are nearly over. Inspire 
this heart to do Thy bidding, and if I should err, 
judge me only for the sin I have done to myself. 
Thou hast forgiven me. Take me to Thy home.” 

“There, there, Amanda, you have overtaxed your- 
self. Quito, take Amanda to her room,” said Freda. 

76 


When Freda left the room with Amanda and 
Quito the General said: “It is all too strange; I 
cannot understand. Henderson, Fm going to ride 
to the City Hall. You remain here as I want a 
good soldier on guard. “This is no place for me! 
I love to fight and I love to be opposed, but when 
women cry, I lose my heart.’ ’’ 

Freda, on entering the room, said “Sergeant 
Henderson, tell me! what have you been doing 
since we last met ? ’ ’ 

“Oh,” answered Henderson, “they have shipped 
us from place to place, and we have had no real 
action since our return to the United States. Freda, 
I have some news for you. My term in the army 
has expired. Now, I want to leave with you a 
little secret. Will you keep it? Freda, some time 
ago when life’s scenes were blank to me, and no 
one seemed to care for me, I gave my heart, my 
life, my soul to one whom I thought would give 
to me in return that which all men crave — love. 
From that time I have courted and have been 
true, never giving a thought to another. At the 
expiration of my enlistment I will return to that 
love and I wish you to bid me good cheer. Give 
me your blessing ! ’ ’ 

“Sergeant Henderson, your words are astounding. 
Oh, why am I here to suffer more misery? You 
might have gone to the other end of the world, 
and I would have gone too, praying that an enemy’s 
bullet would pierce you that I might care for you. 
That feeble prayer will not be answered now. 
Oh, why did you tell me this? Why is fate so cruel 
as to take you from me ? Do you find pleasure in 
crushing the heart of one who would give up her 
life for you? Who, may I ask, has won the heart 
of the bravest man in the world?’’ questioned Freda. 

“My country! Freda, pardon me — Miss Waters, 
as I told you before, my term soon expires. After 
seeing your safely into the care of one who will 

77 


shield and love you, and the fortune you have 
inherited being enough to satisfy your every wish, I 
will marry my first love, the only love I ever knew, 
‘To fight for the glory of the Stars and Stripes!’ 
Before I go I will leave this sword, the sword I took 
from Fairfax the night he attempted my life. I 
charge you to guard it, and if he attempts to harm 
you, the knowledge that you have holds the only 
evidence of his treasonable acts, and will deter him 
from putting into execution any of his plots.” 

* * * * 

A magnificent home, but all that wealth and 
culture could add did not relieve the sombre in- 
fluence that prevailed. Rosewood seemed cold. 
Outside all was grandeur and life. Nature had 
done her duty in blossoming her buds. Within, 
the master and mistress struggled against the 
loneliness of their lives, and the long association 
of Freda and her foster-mother brought only deep 
remorse to this good woman, for the tenderness 
she had exhibited to one who was as near to her 
as her own child. Fairfax, conscience stricken, 
and fearing he would, at any moment, be arrested 
for treason, seemed unable to get any comfort or 
peace of mind. After the evening meal a loving 
mother and a hot-tempered man sat and talked. 

“Why did she go away, mother? When will she 
return?” 

“She has gone to the home of Amanda Williams, 
who is dying, who requested that she might see 
Freda before she died,” answered the mother, 
“Have no fear, my boy. She will come back, as 
this is her home, and although she is of the most 
lovable disposition, you know she is decided in 
her views.” 

“Mother, she is my promised wife. I will go 
and beg her to return. If she refuses, I will use 
force. I will leave for Virginia to-morrow. You 
will accompany me, for I cannot trust myself alone.” 

78 


Fearing that her son had become desperate, and 
knowing of the influence she could exercise over his 
movements, she decided to go with him. They made 
ready for the journey to begin the next day. 

* * * Sf! 

Separated from time to time by duty to their 
master and mistress, the lives of Quito and Pete 
were nat to their own keeping. At each parting 
it was extremely heartrending. From their meeting 
in Cuba, while Pete was an attendant for General 
Funston, and Quito became the ward of Freda, 
these two hearts met, loved, and longed for the 
time when they could claim each other. General 
Funston, not knowing where he would be stationed 
and not anxious to lose his true friend and attendant 
never encouraged Pete in his love affair; but, as 
Providence brought these two lives together, it 
seemed that there would be a fitting climax to this 
drama of affection. Quito’s love for her mistress, 
“Miss Freda,’’ as she called her, soothed her in a 
measure when she was separated from Pete. From 
Cuba, they met again in Washington, and again 
in the Philippines. Peace was declared, and Freda 
returned to her home in Washington. When she 
was summoned to the home of Amanda Williams, 
we find Quito with her. General Funston, receiving 
the request from Freda, and knowing the thoughts 
of his bodyguard Pete, decided to have Pete 
accompany him. Pete little dreamed that he would 
again see his heart’s desire; thus we find the plans 
of Cupid being carried out to the letter. The 
meeting between the two was carefully noticed by 
Freda and the General. The surprise and pleasure 
depicted on the faces of these two dark lovers was 
a great pleasure to the General, and was equally 
enjoyed by Freda. 

Who could foretell what was in store for all 
concerned. The shaping of the destiny of Uves 
is not with individuals. In this humble home, 


79 


after many trials, amid foreign surroundings and 
eventful happenings, these hearts, embodied with 
true sincerity of purpose, high and lofty aspirations 
on one side, mute and tenderness on the other, is 
the problem, soon to be solved by fate. There is 
no denying the fact that no matter how wide the 
social gulf between Freda and Henderson, the 
tender regard for each other was very prevalent. 
It was admitted that Freda regarded Henderson 
tenderly, accepting him on the ground that he was 
an extraordinary man, a hero, and, though of a 
different race than she, he occupied a position that 
brought him in favor with the entire world. Could 
she love him? Her childlike simplicity and Christian 
feeling for every one was an apology for her acts 
toward Henderson. The Sergeant realized that 
a union between the two was impossible, and unable 
to combat the dictates of his heart he permitted 
himself to be a willing slave, with no reward for 
the sacrifice. 

The coming of Surgeon Fairfax and his mother 
was like the arrival of a day of execution and 
Henderson was perplexed as to what course to 
pursue. He sought the advice of the General, 
who could offer him no immediate relief, but ad- 
vised him to allow the events to take their own 
course and await the result. 

Fairfax was accompanied by some civil authori- 
ties, who had in their possession a warrant for 
Henderson on the old charge, and there was great 
excitement when an attempt was made to put 
into execution the serving of the warrant. Fairfax, 
pointing to Henderson, said to the officers: “Seize 
him! Arrest him!” 

As the officers were about to execute his command, 
Henderson said: 

“One moment! You are in the home of a dying 
woman, and if there are any charges against me I 
will readily accompany you without force; but I 


80 


charge you that the first man who lays his hand 
on me will do so at the peril of his life. Miss Waters, 
will you please join Amanda for a few minutes? 
I have something to say that would be unpleasant 
for you to hear. Mrs. Fairfax, I beg you to join 
the ladies; you may return shortly. Now, Fairfax, 
you, at one time, attempted to settle an old score 
with me. Why you should call it an old score I 
know not, as I never laid a straw in your pathway; 
but, for some fancied reason, you sought my life. 
Now the worm has turned and you shall answer 
to me for all you have done. Your charge for 
burglary will not hold. These men dare not arrest 
me, as I am sent here by .the government of the 
United States to arrest you for treason, and I hold, 
as evidence, this sword, your name engraved upon 
its blade, and the sworn confession of Pinto, your 
accomplice. Now Fairfax, there are two courses 
for you to choose. You, with your seconds, will 
meet me to-morrow at five in the morning, at the 
turn of the old road leading to the swamp. You 
may have the choice of weapons, and there shall 
be a fight to death. I have no fear as to the result, 
for one so despicable, who will sell the birthright 
of his country to a hostile tribe, cannot hope for 
success in an equal conflict. If you fail to meet 
me I will haunt you to the four ends of the earth 
that you may be brought before proper authorities, 
court-martialed, and shot down like a dog that 
you are. You need not restrain him, officers, he’s 
before his master now.” 

Like a wild animal held in leash, it seemed as 
if Fairfax frothed at the mouth. The surprised look 
of the officers in charge, as the accused became the 
accuser, brought consternation upon the scene. 
The hot Southern blood of Fairfax fairly boiled 
with indignation and revenge, and with difficulty 
he was restrained from attempting personal assault 
upon his accuser. At this juncture General Funston 

81 


arrived, and taking the situation in at a glance, 
he assumed personal command and gave orders 
that Fairfax should be placed under arrest. Fairfax, 
realizing the utter hopelessness of his case, became 
calm and demanded that he be heard. About this 
time Freda entered the room, and in a gentle voice, 
said, “Gentlemen, you are in my house, and I trust 
you will respect the same. What have I done that 
I am indebted for this unusual visit. Surgeon?” 

“My dear mother and I have come to take you 
back to your home. She is your guardian, and you 
have promised to be my wife. This is no place for 
you; you have no right to be here. It is true that 
we have had little differences, but they should be 
overlooked. I now demand that you prepare 
yourself to accompany us back to Washington,” 
answered Surgeon Fairfax. 

Mrs. Fairfax, hearing the appeal, came upon the 
scene, and, with outstretched arms, she imploringly 
said, “Freda, Freda, my child, say you will go!” 

General Funston, knowing the exact condition 
of affairs, interrupted, saying, “One moment, Mrs. 
Fairfax! There is a fortune left this girl by the 
deceased Colonel. Why have you not acquainted 
her with the fact? Why have you denied this girl 
that which is rightfully hers?” 

Mrs. Fairfax, with bowed head and tenderness 
of love, which characterized her deep feeling for 
Freda, and tears streaming from her eyes, sobbed: 
“It is all too true. The fortune is hers. I have 
the papers here.” With trembling hands she drew 
from her bosom a small packet of papers. 

In an instant, like a crazed tiger, Fairfax snatched 
the papers from his mother’s hand, and with an 
Oath he screamed, “By the gods she shall not have 
them! I swear she has promised to be my wife, 
and I will hold her until her dying day.” 

There were sounds heard from the other room, 
as one trying to restrain another from coming upon 


82 


the scene. First the voice of persuasion, then almost 
a command, but it seemed of no avail. The door 
leading from that little parlor to the room occupied 
by Amanda Williams was thrown open, and a 
woman, who, but a short time ago, was weak from 
a nervous depression, stood erect in the doorway. 
The fire showing in her eyes clearly depicted that a 
great load had been lifted from her heart. Unassisted 
she came upon the warring faction, and with out- 
stretched arms toward Freda, she clearly and dis- 
tinctly said, “Freda, I am strong now. God has 
released me from the vow I once made. He will 
soon call me to my life’s account. I have suffered 
all these years that you may not know that which 
would make you unhappy the remainder of your 
days. You were taken from me when a child. I 
was given a sum of money. Because of the fairness 
of your skin you were taught to believe that I was 
your nurse, and that you were a waif upon the 
world. I vowed never to divulge the secret. You 
are my own child; my own flesh and blood. Your 
father was none other than the father of Surgeon 
Fairfax.” 

Mrs. Fairfax, almost overcome by the declara- 
tion of Amanda, exclaimed: “Is it true? Is it 
true?” 

“It is true,” answered Amanda, “and I vowed 
to the Colonel never to reveal the secret. The 
secret would have died with me, but I must spare 
you and your son from a greater wrong. Freda! 
Forgive me I Forgive me 1 ’ ’ 

After hearing the confession of her mother, Freda 
rushed to Amanda, and throwing her arms around 
her neck, cried, “Amanda! My mother! My 
mother ! There is a millstone lifted from this aching 
heart that was bearing me down, but the knowledge 
that you are my own, dear mother, who has suffered 
so much that I might be happy, is all that I want 
in this world. You will live! You will live! and 


83 


we shall be happy. Mrs. Fairfax, you have been 
good to me, and you will forgive my dear mother 
as you hope to be forgiven. Surgeon, in the memory 
of those days when we were young, I forgive you 
for all you have done to me. May we be friends 
as long as we live.” 

The scene was one that left an indelible impression 
upon the minds of those present. The declaration 
of Amanda, disclosing the secret imbedded in her 
heart for these many years, the explosion of the 
shattered romance of Surgeon Fairfax, the humilia- 
tion exhibited by his mother at the disclosures, 
and the sublime contentment of Freda, demonstrat- 
ing only the satisfaction that she had learned the 
truth concerning her ancestry, made a vivid picture. 
The gods of fate, supplanting the gods of hate, 
was a fitting climax to this eventful life. 

Henderson stood as one stunned, and with a 
thought that the realization of his dreams was near, 
he seemed unable to grasp its great import: “She 
can be mine ! She can be mine ! ’ ’ 

Funston, realizing a duty he was to perform, 
was the first to regain his composure, and stepping 
forward, placed his hand upon Fairfax’s shoulder, 
saying, “Surgeon, you are my prisoner. I charge 
you with treason. Consider yourself under arrest.” 

A look of utter dejection was stamped on the 
face of Surgeon Fairfax, and, as the officers who 
were nearby were about to put into execution the 
command of General Funston, Fairfax turned 
imploringly toward Henderson 


84 


CONCLUSION 


The Awakening 

I did not know that life could be so sweet, 

I did not know the hours could speed so fleet, 

’Till I knew you, and life was sweet again. 

The days grew brief with love and lack of pain — 

I was a slave a few short days ago. 

The powers of Kings and Princes now I know; 

I would not be again in bondage, save 
I had your smile, the liberty I crave. 

— Paul Laurence Dunbar. 

When old Hezekiah Williams purchased the farm 
from Colonel Fairfax, he little thought what fate 
had in store for him and his. Colonel Fairfax was 
known as a man with a kind heart, always solicitous 
of the welfare of those whom he befriended. Bom 
an aristocrat, reared in the luxuries of life, a scion 
of a proud and noble family, it was said that this 
man of prominence would not stoop to a degrading 
thought or act; but we find that the dictates of 
conscience often varies to supply excuse for wanton 
acts. As a welcome visitor to the home of Hezekiah 
Williams, no suspicion ever entered the mind of the 
owner as to the intent of their honored guest. 

Amanda Williams, the beautiful daughter of 
Hezekiah, received the Colonel in the line of the 
family benefactor, and she admired his noble traits 
of character, his military bearing, and often remarked 
that the Colonel was like one of the family. After 
the death of her father, the financial diffictdties 
confronting them and pa3dng off the mortgage on 

85 


the farm, gave the Colonel an opportunity to dis- 
play greater acts of philanthropy towards these 
unfortunate friends. 

“Don’t worry, Amanda,’’ he said, one day after 
the death of her father, “I will be your friend, and 
no harm shall befall you. Neither you or your 
mother shall want for anything as long as I am able 
to serve you.’’ But, what was the price? “Judge 
not ye that ye may not be judged.’’ 

With full confidence in the Colonel’s honesty of 
purpose, Amanda little suspected that those kind 
words, coming from the lips of the man whom she 
regarded in the light of a family friend, would leave 
her sorrowing for years to come. 

“Amanda,’’ said the Colonel to her one day, “if 
you will guide me, I would like to look over the 
farm; there may be some improvements needed.’’ 

“All right. Colonel!’’ Like a careless school girl, 
eager to be of some assistance, she took the Colonel 
by the hand, and they were soon wending their 
way to the farthest end of the estate. Coming 
to a little brook whose waters irrigated the soil, and 
being tired they sat down to refresh themselves. 
Finding a part of a cocoanut shell which they used 
for a cup, tenderly he stooped, and with that gallant 
reserve of a knight serving a princess, he dipped 
from the brook the cooling water. As he gave it 
to her their eyes met, and as she took from his 
hand the shell that contained the water, a feeling 
of awe took possession of her, trembling as a lamb 
would before the king of the forest. The hot passion 
of blood rushed to the temples of the Colonel, which 
seemed to blind him. His moral instinct paralyzed, 
before he realized the enormity, he threw his arms 
around her neck and kissed her passionately. Helpless 
in the arms of a stronger foe, surprised beyond meas- 
ure, Amanda was unable to defend herself or to offer 
one word of protest. The tears rushed to her eyes, 
and sobbingly she cried, “Colonel! Oh, Colonel!’’ 

86 


Releasing her for a moment, and realizing his 
awful act, he tenderly took her in his arms again, 
saying, “Amanda, I love you! Forgive me for what 
I have done. We are not responsible for conditions. 
We have no control over ourselves. It is true I 
have no right to approach you, to subject you to 
any act that would blight your future. Say you will 
forgive me!” 

“Colonel Fairfax, until now I looked upon you 
as the noblest of men, never stooping to one degrad- 
ing act. It is true that my mother and I are your 
wards. If it is your will you could drive us from 
our home. My father being dead I am left unpro- 
tected. I appeal to your noble manhood, and if 
there be one spark remaining, one sense of noble 
duty, one thought of regard for your family, I 
implore you to forget this day. As God forgives, 
so do I . Take me to my mother ! ’ ’ 

These ringing words of censure, coming from 
one so weak in physical force, brought the Colonel 
back to himself. Raising his hat, he assumed his 
former gallantry and bowed, saying, “We will 
return to the cottage. We will forget.” The 
Colonel vowed to himself that from that moment 
he would never see her again, only when she was 
in company with her mother, for he feared his 
weakness, that he would never surrender to it. 

“Come, Colonel, I know you didn’t mean any 
harm. We will finish what we set out to do. See, 
this is the storehouse for the tobacco. It needs 
repairing.” 

As if nothing had happened they discussed ques- 
tions of interest for the improvement of the farm. 
Taking note as to what was to be done, the Colonel 
and Amanda returned to the cottage. After a few 
words with her mother he returned to his home, 
Amanda to think over the happenings of the day. 
What could she do? Where could she go? What 
would become of her mother if she should leave? 


87 


In the solitude of her chamber she knelt and prayed 
to God that he would shield and protect her. In 
the stillness of the night she was awakened in her 
dreams, and a voice was heard to say, “Amanda, 
I love you!” Do whatever she could, she was un- 
able to drive the echo from her mind and thoughts ; 
realizing her position, the difference between the 
two races, and the knowledge that the Colonel had 
a family. She saw in him her ideal, but she must 
not entertain any thought that would bring her into 
disfavor with the world, or to cause one pang of 
conscious remorse. Amanda vowed to be strong, 
to defend herself for any indiscretion in the future. 

In a few days workmen and lumber arrived, and 
the needed improvements were done. After the 
painting of the cottage, bams and outhouses, 
Am.anda and her mother were surprised beyond 
expression. What did the Colonel mean to do? 
Were the improvements made for the disposing 
of the old homestead? Tmly, he could not hope 
to be financially repaid by twa helpless women. 
Not hearing from the Colonel, they were left in 
anxious doubt. A feeling of uneasiness was enter- 
tained by both Amanda and her mother, fearing 
at any time that they would receive notice that the 
Colonel had foreclosed, and would take possession 
of his own property. One day a large van arrived 
containing carpets, chairs, and other household 
goods. The man in charge handed a sealed letter 
to Amanda. The contents read : 

“My Dear Miss Williams: I am sending you 
some things which may be of service to you. I am 
refurnishing Rosewood, and I trust that you will 
accept these in the tme spirit of an old friend. 

Very tmly yours. 

Colonel Fairfax.” 

Mrs. Williams, overjoyed, instmcted Amanda 
to send for the Colonel that she might personally 
thank him. Not long after that the Colonel arrived 


88 


to look over the improvements, and to receive the 
appreciation of those he befriended. 

“How do you do, Colonel?” was the pleasant 
salutation given the Colonel by Amanda. “ Mother 
is not feeling well; I will take you to her room.” 

Soon the Colonel and Amanda stood by the bed- 
side of her mother. 

“Colonel,” said the mother, “I am so glad you 
have come. I’m not so well to-day, but we wish 
to say from the depths of our hearts we thank you 
for your kindness. How can we ever repay you ? ” 

“There! There! Never mind! All I ask is that 
you recover, and now I must go and see how the 
work has been done.” 

“All right, Colonel. Amanda, take the Colonel 
around.” 

It was this simple command, unconsciously given 
by Amanda’s mother to her, that brought years 
of trial and sorrow; for within a year a stranger 
appeared in that cottage. Its birth did not bring 
joy, but remorse. This advent shadowed the lives 
of two hearts. Mrs. Williams began to age, and 
became weaker and weaker, until at last she was 
called to her life’s account. 

The death of Mrs. Williams and the care of the 
new arrival shattered the health of Amanda, but 
realizing the care of her child, and the true mother’s 
love, gave her strength to fight the battle of life. 
This beautiful baby girl showed not the least trace 
of negro blood. We recognize our heroine, “Freda ! ” 

Carefully nursed by her mother, she received the 
best attention that could be given any child. The 
Colonel’s visits were more frequent at the home- 
stead. Amanda, being the mistress, no questions 
were asked by those who served her. For more 
than four years Amanda had the care of Freda, when 
at that time the Colonel decided to rear the child, 
train, and educate her so that she may never know 
her true ancestry. It was extremely heartrending 

89 


when Amanda gave Freda to her father. She only 
surrendered her child with the knowledge that she 
would protect its future. The consideration of the 
annuity given Amanda by the Colonel did not in- 
fluence her to make the sacrifice; it was the mother’s 
love for her child that Freda would be far happier 
not knowing the true state of affairs. 

So we find Freda, at the age of five years, adopted 
by her own father at the Rosewood mansion. 
Her early life, education, works of charity, and the 
engagement to Surgeon Fairfax were all eventful. 
We find her now at her former home, the home of 
her birth, seeking some knowledge of her ancestry. 
When Amanda heard the declaration of Fairfax, 
that Freda was his betrothed wife, the breaking 
of her vow, and the pleasure it gave Freda for the 
knowledge she had so long sought, was a fitting 
climax to the many perplexing problems. 

At the action of General Funston, placing Fairfax 
under arrest, it seemed to take from him all his 
manly power of resistance, and his utter helpless- 
ness was evident. Who would save him? Appeal- 
ingly his eyes turned to the man whom he had 
hounded and whose life he had sought. Would he 
exercise his prerogative, or would he show mercy? 

The picture of a scion of a noble family, con- 
demned to punishment by one who was socially 
his inferior, the weeping mother, the rigid hand of 
the law, and a happy woman made a contrasting 
foreground that no artist or poet could describe 
in word or brush. Fate is the artist and living souls 
the characters. 

After a deathlike silence, the voice of Henderson 
was heard to say,“ General, to convict Surgeon Fairfax 
for this grave crime, you must have evidence ; that 
evidence I hold, and may God in His infinite grace 
forgive him as I forgive.” Suiting the action to the 
word, he tore the confession of Pinto into pieces, 

90 


and taking the sword, which was meant for his 
destruction, in a determined, directed blow, he broke 
it across his knee. 

Mrs. Fairfax, unnerved by the act of this black 
hero, threw her arms around his neck and cried, 

‘ ‘ God bless you ! God bless you ! ’ ’ 

* * * * 

Two saddened hearts wended their way home to 
renew life under different conditions. 

The General’s work being finished he gave Freda 
his blessing, but it was a sad parting for the General, 
as he left behind one who had been with him for 
years. When the choice was made between the 
General and Quito, Pete said, “General, I loves 
you; you has been good to me and I would give 
my life for you at any time. You know I’m gitting 
old and I can’t travel like I used to. Miss Freda 
told me I could stay here on the farm, and Quito 
has promised — ” To emphasize his thought he 
poked the General in the ribs. “General, go to 
Mrs. Fairfax. You know dat woman needs you 
and you need some one to care for you. It’s better to 
be head of Rosewood than a target for the enemy.” 

Although the General seemed loth to admit 
Pete’s charges, he decided, within himself, to adopt 
the course advised. “Well, good-bye, friends! 
I suppose a minister will be needed soon, and you 
must have witnesses.” As he moved toward the 
door, he added, “Remember General Funston.” 

After an exchange of departing formalities there 
remained but three. 

Amanda, turning to Henderson, with a look of 
tenderness overspreading her calmlike countenance 
said, “Sergeant, tell me your plans, for I feel too 
happy to have one dark cloud appear.” 

“Miss Williams,” said Henderson, “I must report 
for duty. Uncle Sam has not released me, so I will 
report to headquarters for orders.” 

91 


“Sergeant, God has sent you to this humble 
home to shield and protect two lone women. It is 
true that the country needs yotir service, but it is 
equally true that you are wanted here. Promise 
me that you will return to us. That promise and 
the thought that Freda will be happy, will make 
my declining days peaceful." 

“Come, mother, let me take you to your room. 
I fear the reaction will be too great for you. Excuse 
me for a moment. Sergeant. I will join you in the 
arbor," and with the tenderness that had character- 
ized her whole life, Freda led her mother away. 

Henderson, left alone, stepped to the door and 
called Pete. After passing a few pleasant words 
with his old friend he was joined by Freda. Pete, 
realizing his unwelcome presence, made an excuse 
and was soon gone. 

A large grape arbor, drooping vines, rustic boughs, 
that would grace an entrance to the Garden of 
Eden, was where Freda and Henderson were seen to 
enter. 

The sun shone with gleeful radiance. Nearby, 
the careless dancing of the water of the brook over 
the rocks, the merry caroling of the birds in the 
trees, and the perfume of the flowers, were the 
homage given to the principals of this romance. 
All was bright and gay and it seemed as if Providence 
had prepared minutely the details that were to 
make this occasion most fitting. Cupid, with arrow 
drawn, ready to release at the given signal, was the 
last important act. 

Screened by the bars of Nature, the declaration 
of two hearts, with the birds as the only living 
witnesses, can best be described by the words — 
''Two souls with hut a single thought 
Two hearts that heat as oneT 

Emerging from their temporary haven there was 
a ruddy glow seen upon Freda’s face. 

“I will look for you as soon as you are released." 

92 


“Freda, the time is all too long before my return, 
but as God has been good to us both, and if it is 
His will that nothing intervenes, I will soon return 
to claim you as my own. Until then you will nurse 
your dear mother back to health, and perfect all 
plans for the great event.” 

Two strong arms were thrown around the slender 
form; the seal stamped on the lips of the one who 
had given her future for the man who was her soul's 
choice. 

* * * 

A village church, a noble gathering, a perfect 
day, solemn words, prompt responses, the pealing 
of the organ; These were the crowning acts that 
cemented severed hearts. 


THE END. 


Every woman 

By F. Grant Gilmore 

Every woman plays her part upon life’s stage; 

Every woman is the star in this wondrous age; 
Everywoman’s power, Everywoman’s noble art, 
Everywoman’s act is from Everywoman’s heart. 

The curtain rises on the scene in Everywoman’s home; 
There she reigns in majesty, a queen upon her throne; 

She calls for her companions, her loyal subjects three. 

Her first is Youth; then Beauty comes; and last is Modesty. 

This drama, acted on life’s stage, is called “In Quest of 
Love ’ ’ ; 

The hero is a royal King, whose power comes from above; 
Everywoman seeks him, little knowing of the strife. 

The dangers that beset her path, through her eventful life. 

We go, my fair companions; we leave this humble place; 
You’ll e’er be near to guide me, with your wondrous grace; 
Then out on the road of U ncertainty , the four silently strolled, 
While the chimes in yonder belfry solemnly tolled. 

“Where goest thou?’’ A ringing voice; ’Tis flattery that 
calls ; 

“’Tis I that Everywoman loves, a love that’s all and all’’; 
“Ah, that is true, but my companions fear thy marvelous 
power. 

And our journey has just started within the parting hour.’’ 

“I’ll see thee more,’’ said Everywoman, laughing in joyful 
glee; 

“But who comes hither, whose face is masked, and who 
is calling me?’’ 

“ ’Tis Passion! Oh, Everywoman,’’ Modesty replies, 
“Come fly with Beauty and with Youth; there’s danger 
in his sighs. 

“Why journey on. Oh, Everywoman? ’Tis I thy heart 
doth crave. 

Sweet nectar in my kisses, that carry to the grave’’; 
“Alas! O, King, I’ve found thee; let me rest on thy 
strong arm. 

In ecstacy of bliss I sleep, unmindful of future harm.’’ 

94 


But where is fair Modesty? She’s vanished from thy 
sight, 

Fair Beauty and Youth will shield thee, all through the 
coming night; 

“I see it all,” cried Everywoman; “Modesty fled in dis- 
grace; 

I know thee now; thou art no king,” the mask torn from 
his face. 

He hurries from the fateful scene to hide his face in shame. 
Defeat and dishonor is stamped upon his name; 

We’ll hurry on, companions; let’s hurry on our way. 

For Everywoman is made welcome in the city Gay. 

Ah! see the gay lights gleaming. Ah! hear the music 
sweet ; 

Hear the laughter of the throngs, through the busy street; 
’Tis here we’ll find our august king, ’mid sunshine, life, 
and song. 

Awaiting Everywoman. A king can do no wrong. 

Why all this pompous grandeur? Why all this gala fete? 
Who is this Knight Royal, the people crave to greet? 

Ah! see Everywoman; “ ’Tis he! ’Tis he, himself!” 

The world pays homage to the king — the King Wealth. 

He smiles on Everywoman; she smiles in return. 
Enraptured by her companions, who soon the truth will 
learn ; 

“Art thou the king I seeketh? Will’t thou tell me true?” 

“I am, O, Everywoman! my throne I’ll share with you. 

“ Bring on the wine; the mmsic play ; let joy be unconfined! 
My gold is my scepter; the joys of life are mine.” 

“Take me and my companions. Beauty and fair Youth — ” 
“Stop!” I say. “It shall not be!” Who’s this? The 
voice of Truth. 

“I implore thee Everywoman! Listen to my plea! 

’Tis I and Conscience that is ever ready to guide thee.” 
“I’ll hear thee not! Out of my way! I go with my King, 
And for his noble sacrifice, my two companions bring.” 

The guests arrive ; the feast is on ; life is one gay dream ; 
Wealth is the arrant Knight; Everywoman is the Queen; 
’Mid strains of song and laughter, unmindful of the cost. 
The voice of Truth and Conscience shout, “Stop! thy 
soul is lost!” 


95 


"Alas!. Oh, where is Beauty, who was ever at my side?" 

"She’s passed to the realms beyond,” cried Truth; "Your 
companion has died.” 

"Oh, Youth, thou art the only one that’s left to cheer me 
now. 

And thou art fading fast; care is stamped upon thy brow.” 

"What! lost thy companions?” cried Wealth, in disdain; 

" Thy charms have fled; thou lookest not the same, 

And I must seek another Queen to take the place of thee.” 

Deserted and alone thou art, dethroned by Vanity. 

But Truth, yet all undaunted, bravely bore the test; 

"Come, Everywoman, follow Truth, to yon haven of rest.” 

On they journeyed, o’er life’s pathway, silently alone. 

Leaning on the arm of Truth, Everywoman reaches home. 

Ah! Who is this that greets us; who’s voice is strong and 
clear? 

’Tis King Love, the First!” cried Truth; "My son who 
bids us draw near.” 

"Alas! Alas! my King I’ve found thee. Take me in 
thy strong arm. 

To live and love all through life; shield me from all harm.” 


Now the play is ended. O, world be just; be fair; 

To Everywoman be merciful; charitable everywhere. 

Her faults are many; virtues few; always seeking fame; 
The curtain falls upon the scene. "Nobody” is to blame. 


96 


Grandpa’s Resolution 

By F. Grant Gilmore 

Come children, come and hear 
What yo’ grandpa has to say; 

Just listen, honey; lay down yo’ cheer, 
Befo’ dis New Year’s Day. 

You knows dis race am prosperous. 
Through de good Lord’s kindly grace 

And he’s also very generous. 

In preparing us a place. 

But how’s we gwine to pay him. 

For de good things dat we’s got; 

De Bible says we’s bo’n in sin. 

And dar’s a place dat’s hot. 

Now, we don’t want to go tha’. 

For doing things that’s wrong; 

We wants to be one of dem dat are 
Wid de mighty throng. 

So as dis year am passing out. 

And de New Year’s coming in, 

Dis aint no time to play and shout, 

But make new resolutions. 

See what we’s done in fifty years. 

Since slavery ruled de Ian’ ; 

When prayer was mingled wid our tears 
And shackles on our hands. 

De war den came and we was free. 

We started on our way; 

We’s gone so fast, honey, you see, 

We’s done run past our day. 

First we got some schoolin’. 

Den we got some sense; 

’Dere was no time for foolin’. 

Or hangin’ on de fence. 


We jes’ kept on a-hustlin’, 

A-working night and day, 

Till now we is a-crowdin’, 

De white folks out de way. 

Dat’s why we is thankful 

Fo’ de good things from above; 

Dat’s why we is grateful, 

For His never-dying love. 

Now, chillen, let’s make dis promise 
To de good Lord, from dis day 

To rid our hearts from malice. 

And to love, watch, and pray. 

To share each udder’s burden. 

To give care to our health. 

To get all de eddication. 

To get a slice ob wealth. 

To do as we wish to be done by. 

To be honest, brave, and true; 

To wipe tears from some poor one’s eye. 
As you’d have them do to you. 

Now, let us all our voices raise. 

In glory and good-will cheer. 

Triumphantly giving praise 
For this coming New Year. 


98 


A Dream 

By F. Grant Gilmore 

Seated in my cosy armchair, 

Resting from the cares of toil, 

When out from the burning embers glare 
Two faces whom I knew of old. 

The wind without was howling mad; 

Within all was quiet and serene; 

All the world to me was glad; 

I fell asleep; this was my dream: 

“A cabin in the cotton fields, 

Slave hands all gather’d near; 

A bonded mother trying to shield 
Her boy she loves so dear. 

Torn away from his mother’s side, 

She’ll ne’er see him no more; 

Fate has decreed to devide. 

Those whom we love and adore. 

I see again a noble man 

Escaped from the tyrant’s chain. 

Free to fight and take a stand. 

That justice may supremely reign. 

Who’s this? Ah! there stands Lincoln, 
Giving freedom to the slaves; 

What’s that? The roar of cannon. 

The rushing of the braves? 

I see a frightful carnage; 

Families are torn in twain. 

Fighting with masterly courage, 

To preserve their country’s name. 

The scene has changed; peace declared; 

And from each veteran’s mouth 

I hear these words, in sorrow shared, 

‘There is no North or South.’ 

Ah! there are the halls of Congress, 

Where justice and law abide; 

And with patriotic firmness. 

Stand Lincoln and Douglass, side by side.” 

I awoke at last, in amazement. 

Crying, ‘‘Glory to God; give praise”; 

And with one glorifying assent. 

Celebrate Lincoln and Douglass birthdays. 


99 





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